


I'm In Debt To You

by Interstellalover



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3945271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interstellalover/pseuds/Interstellalover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another take on the classic relationship of Akihito, the freelance photographer, and Asami, the crime lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm just a lowly amateur writer, so please go easy on me. This is going to be another classic Akihito/Asami story. These characters and story line belong to Yamane Ayano. Thank you!

The freelance photographer sat on top of an abandoned warehouse, near a small dock, waiting. The dock was mostly abandoned, only used for the occasional street drug deal. This was what the photographer was waiting for. Only this time, it was going to go down, not between an addict and a thug, but between an international dealer and a business man. The freelancer got the tip off from his friend, Detective Yamazaki, a paper pusher at Shinjuku's south police station who loves cheap cigarettes and always smells like an ashtray. The tip off could have been much more exciting, like busting some human traffickers, or catching some dirty politicians, but the promising freelancer took what he could get. He was also lucky that he was a safe distance from the action because the last time he was sent out on a job, he got beat up by one of the goons illegally dealing some crack.

The freelancer looked at his dimly lit digital watch that read, 2:03am. He pulled his ball cap over his mused blonde hair to block out some of the humid air. He slipped on his fingerless leather gloves and grabbed his mini binoculars that were on a rope string around his neck. He laid down flat on his stomach and put the binoculars up to his curious eyes. Thank goodness the deal was supposed to go down under the classic one lone lamppost near the beginning of the dock, or else he couldn't have been able to see any of the dirty dealings. He took another look at his watch, 2:05am.

"Come on guys, get the show on the road. It was supposed to be at 2 o'clock sharp." He looked back through his binoculars. "Oh, here we go." He whispered to himself.

A small, skiff boat, with a tarp covering half of the boat, motored onto scene and arrived at the dock. A couple of darkly clothed men jumped onto the rickety dock, while the pilot of the boat stayed at the wheel.

The pilot of the boat was giving the two guys hand signals and pointed at his watch a few times, then at the jet black tarp. The two dealers nodded and headed for the meeting place below the lamppost.

A sleek black limo arrived on scene and parked in the shadow, casted by the lamppost. A big man, with broad shoulders and gun holsters, got out of the passenger seat of the black limo. He stood, surveyed his surroundings, then started towards the two men that had already arrived. Another huge man, same as the first, exited the rear left door of the limo. He kept the door open to let an elderly man, dressed in a black suit and holding a cane, exit the limo. They both went to meet with the group that had already assembled.

There was no hand shakings, greetings, or gestures. This was purely just business, illegal, dirty, business.

The promising freelancer set his binoculars down and reached for his camera that was strapped to his waist. He got out his new long-range zoom camera lens and attached it to the camera. The new camera lens cost him an arm and a leg, but it was worth it. Better pictures, better stories, more busts. He leaned over the edge of the warehouse roof and zoomed in on the scene.

One of the dealers had gone back to the boat while a suited man went back to the limo. The dealer went under the tarp in the boat and got some of his white product. The suited man reached in the back seat of the limo and retrieved a briefcase. They both came back under the lamppost with their supposed drugs and money.

The photographer on the roof focused his lens on the drug deal in progress. The dealer was showing off his sample to the men in suits. The man on the roof pressed the capture button on his camera for the perfect scene. Five simultaneous flashes came out from his camera. The amateur photographer lowered his camera from his eye. "Oh, shit." Within a second, guns were pulled out and pointed towards where the flash of light came from. Shots rang out in the night as the men started yelling.

"Get back in the boat! Someone followed them!" The two dealers ran across the dock and jumped back in their little skiff and boat motored away while the limo quickly collected its passengers and sped off.

"Holy shit!" The photographer plastered himself to the roof as the shots flew overhead. He hoped nobody came looking for him. He knew they never did. The dealers and business men didn't waste their time looking for a little punk freelancer. Another deal was always around the next corner.

A good ten minutes of complete silence passed before the young photographer lifted his head. "Damn it! Rookie mistake Akihito!" The freelance photographer was cursing at himself. He pushed himself up and gathered up his binoculars and camera supplies. He glanced at his watch, 2:19am. "Damn, it only took you five minutes to screw up!" The young man started to talk to himself.

Takaba Akihito, an aspiring young freelance photographer, just had his 19th birthday. He is very good at catching the criminals in their act. Not so good at remembering if he left his flash on or not. Too excited to get that perfect shot. His pictures came out great, but he was making his presence known too often and putting himself in danger a lot lately.

Akihito was still grumbling to himself while he climbed down a ladder to get back to ground level. "Man, I wish the buses ran this late. It looks like a long walk home for me." He was talking to the night breeze as if it were his friend. He zipped up his jacket over his tank top and started walking home. The only company he had was his echoing footsteps, the night breeze, and his shadow cast by the moon and the many lights of Shinjuku city.

Akihito didn't get back to his little apartment building until well after 4 o'clock. His apartment complex was a rundown 15 story building located on the south side of town. It was owned by an old lady that got on any tenant's ass about paying on time. Something that Akihito is not good at because, sometimes, he didn't even know where his next meal may come from.

The young photographer past a few of the neighborhood bums as he entered the door to his building. He didn't have to use his key on the door since the lock was broken, never going to be fixed. He climbed the eight flights of stairs to get to his room. The elevator never worked. He walked down his hallway and entered his little apartment. He closed the door behind him and locked the various deadbolts, chains, and latches that adorned his door. He turned around and looked upon his modest home. It was the size of one bedroom. Aside from the front door, the only other door led to the bathroom.

There was a twin sized bed that took up half of his room. It had pull out drawers and was shoved against the wall furthest from the window. It served as his couch, bed, and sometimes his dining table. A little kitchen, in the corner on one side of the window. It consisted of a stovetop, a sink, a microwave, and a mini fridge. There was a cabinet over his microwave that rarely had stored food. One luxury that he did have was an old television with the box on the back, placed on a milk carton on the other side of the window. Laying next to the T.V. was an old beat up x-box console and controller with a few shoot em' up games. Other than that, he lived a pretty meager life. But, it was more than a lot of people had. He could have been homeless, jailed, or dead. So, he looked upon his small living space with gratitude.

Akihito slipped his gloves off and put them on the bed. He then unstrapped his camera bag from his waist and put it in one of the drawers under his bed. He unzipped his jacket, took it off, and threw it on the floor.

The tired teen headed for his small bathroom. He slipped off his white tank top, took off his scuffed sneakers, and took off his ripped jeans. Leaving a trail to the bathroom. Boxers coming off last, he started the water in his shower and jumped in. He shivered under the falling water until it became warm. He then soaped his whole body up, including his hair. He washed his matted, blonde hair until it was free of the night's dirt and grime. His hands then roamed his body, going over his lean muscles, attributed to years of jumping between roofs and not eating enough.

His hands slid down his chest, going over a nipple that gave him a shudder. His hands slid further down his soapy chest, over his flat stomach, then stopped over his groin. He slid one hand further, onto his penis and slicked his head a few times. He started to pump his well soaped penis until it became hard. The boy leaned up a against the side of the one person shower to steady himself and went back to pumping his cock. He positioned himself so that a steady stream of warm water hit his sensitive, hard penis.

"Mmm," He started to moan with a couple of pleasurable grunts thrown in. He pumped his cock faster and at a steady rhythm. The teenager clenched his teeth when he was getting close. One more good... "Ah!" The teen eyes fluttered closed as he gave a great shiver and came all over his chest and in the floor of the tub. The water quickly washing it away. His cum swirling around the drain before it disappeared.

Akihito took a few moments to himself. Not thinking about anything. Just the pleasure that he just went through. Just feeling the sensation of having goose bumps not from the cold, but from the warmth.

He rinsed off the rest of the suds, turned off the water, and got out of the shower. He dried himself off with a towel, depicting a yellow sponge and a pink star. He then wrapped the damp towel around his middle.

The teenager didn't particularly like touching himself. It just felt good to escape in some pleasurable sensations even for just a moment. To feel like the whole world is shattering and yet building itself back up at the same time. The feeling of floating in space where time does not exist.

He always felt dirty after doing it. Sometimes he thought it was wrong of him to give into his lustfulness. But, it just felt so good to come. Of course, he couldn't take the full blame. Ever since he hit puberty, he just has these pent up feelings that are only released when he... well... releases. It also didn't help that he has not been physical with anyone. He didn't know what his sexuality was. You don't meet to many people in the middle of the night while on his type of job.

The teenager went to his little kitchen to see if there was a few crackers left or some ramen. But, there was none to be had. With a disappointed look and a grumble in his stomach, he went to is bed and laid down, still clothed in his damp towel. He let his eyes droop slowly while he let his mind fade away. His thoughts wondering to a better place, away from the scum of the city and away from his job that put him in the forefront of it all.


	2. Chapter 2

Akihito awoke to the sound of his watch beeping an annoying high pitched wail. He drug himself out of bed and accidentally stepped on the watch, silencing it. "Ouch!" The sleepy teen grabbed his foot and sat back on the bed. He knelt down and grabbed his watch. His blurry eyes tried to focus on the luminescent numbers. 7:32am. "Huh, I slept for a full four hours. Not so bad." He started to slump back in his bed and close his eyes. His eyes snapped back open. "Oh no! I was supposed to meet Yamazaki!"

Akihito scrambled to get dressed. He grabbed a string backpack and filled it with the pictures, a notebook, and his camera. He then grabbed his keys and hustled out his apartment door and down the stairs to the first floor. He ignored the landlady that had come out of one of the doors, brandishing a wooden soup spoon at him.

"Takaba Akihito! You didn't pay your rent yet!" The woman was shaking her spoon at him. She was dressed in an oversized nightgown with curlers in her hair. She still had a little crusty green stuff on her cheek that was last night's facemask. Nice sight to see first thing in the morning.

"It's not the first. I still got a whole week!" He shouted behind him.

"I have to remind you ahead of time because you never pay on time!" The landlady yelled after him.

"Yeah, but I always manage to pay. I'm sorry, I got to go." Akihito ran out the door and down the street.

Akihito jogged past various ramen noodle stands emitting delicious smells. He also ran past a few bums and overflowing dumpsters emitting their own smells. His part of town was friendly with a tinge of mischievousness. Ramen noodle stands always skimped on your meal, bums would say hello while not telling you that you dropped something, the park was always filled with panhandlers, and around every corner, there was someone there ready to sell you illegal drugs or weapons.

The photographer loved his little part of town. He loved it too much to leave.

The young freelancer arrived at the base of the South Shinjuku Police Station about to enter, developed photos in hand. He walked through the double doors and snuck past the receptionist lady who was occupying herself with painting her nails. On his way to Detective Yamazaki's desk, he snagged a maple doughnut off of one of the other policeman's desk.

Akihito spotted his detective friend and sat down on the other side of his desk, chewing happily on his free breakfast.

Detective Yamazaki, dressed in a crinkly white collared shirt with a black tie, looked up from his paperwork with a cheap cigarette in his mouth. Years of failed cases and the criminal getting away caused the detective to age prematurely. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was wrinkled, and his hair was turning gray. Having punk kids come in demanding leads and money for photos also adds a few gray hairs.

Akihito leaned in and looked at the detective. He started off, part of the doghnut still being chewed. "Good news, and bad news." Akihito said while chewing. The detective eyeballed the kid sitting across from him with an annoyed look on his face. "Do you want to hear the good news first or the bad news?" The detective continued to stare. "Alright, I'll just say it. My flash accidentally went off, so I screwed up their deal, but I got some awesome pictures."

The detective sat back in his office chair and glared at the photographer. "You didn't get the shot of them handing over the drugs?" He tapped a bit of ash off of his cigarette in an ashtray on the corner of his desk.

Akihito was sitting in the chair across from Detective Yamazaki, happily munching. "I'm sorry, I messed up the deal. But, look at the bright side, I got some really good pics." He said this while tossing some photos of last night's drug deal across the desk to the detective.

The detective picked them up and looked through them. "Okay... This is good. We can use these." He continued puffing on his cheap cigarette then put it out in a black ashtray on his desk. "Did you get any of their faces?"

"No"

"Then how do you expect me to make a bust? Bring crooks in? I can't go out there and follow these leads. The sources are about as good as you remembering to turn off your flash. Bring me evidence. That's what I pay you for." 

"Okay! Geez. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"I've had too many failed cases to not have it a big deal, Takaba." He irritably rubbed his temples.

His desk was an askew of papers, folders, and photos of various crime lords, secret houses, and drugs. His desk was as organized as Akihito's schedule. Which meant a lot because Akihito didn't even go by any schedule, just by the times of his next lead. Flying by the seat of his pants is a quote that should belong to the teenage freelancer.

A cop passed by Yamazaki's desk and noticed Akihito, finishing up one of his colleague's maple doughnut. "Look what the cat dragged in." The snooty policeman, dressed in a pressed police officer's uniform said with a sneer.

Yamazaki put down Akihito's photos and looked up at the passing cop. With a sigh he replied. "Lay off the kid, Takeshi. He brings in decent photos, makes a little cash, and helps crack down on the bad guys. Even though his work has been shitty lately."

Akihito, taking what he said as a compliment and not an insult, stuck his glaze covered tongue out at the cop without Yamazaki noticing.

The cop, Takeshi, gave a scoff and kept walking.

The detective picked the photos back up and looked over at Akihito. "How much do you want for these?" He stacked the photos neatly in front of him. The only neat stack on his desk.

The young photographer started to rub his clammy hands across his threadbare jeans. He started to give the puppy dog eyes to the detective across from him. "Well, I need enough for rent this month, and I need a little walking around money." The kid added a little quirk of a smile.

Detective Yamazaki gave his freelance photographer an 'I need to get your ass out of a crack again, don't I?' look.

Akihito still gave the detective the puppy dog look. "Please?" His bottom lip started to tremble.

After a few intense moments of a staring contest between the two, Yamazaki gave in. "Alright, let's make a deal. Follow this other lead I got for you and I'll give you enough for your rent this month, and a little bit more." Yamazaki sat back in his seat and lit up another cigarette.

The excited photographer jumped up at the chance of another chance and the money that's coming in. "Awesome! Thank you!"

The detective got up from his leather seat and reached across and tousled Akihito's hair. "Eh, what can I say? No one else was going to give you a job. You little shit. Just make sure this time, you check your flash, okay? I need faces of the dealers, prostitutes, dirty politicians. Not your puppy dog face." He was leading Akihito out of the station. "Come back in an hour and I'll have the details for you."

Akihito looked back at Yamazaki. "Alright! I'll see you in an hour." The flamboyant teenager started to skip down the street.

"That kid." Detective Yamazaki said under his breath.

The bounding teen jogged the twelve blocks to get to the Shio Bar, where his friend worked. The bar was just on the edge of town, so it took him a few minutes to get there. 

He walked through the wooden doors and sat at the bar. He waited for his friend to come out of the back room. The photographer started to munch on some roasted bar peanuts.

There was no one else in the bar since it was about 8:30 in the morning. This bar was one of few that were open this early. It was a nice little bar with a few booths, a pool table, darts, and of course, the bar itself with swivel chairs. There were lamps hanging over the booths giving the place a gloomy look. No one wanted to see themselves drink away their sorrows so early in the morning.

Akihito kept munching contently on his snack.

"Hey, those are for paying patrons only."

Akihito whirled around on his swivel seat and looked at where the voice came from. "Kou! I have some great news!" The teen said.

Kou, the person that was giving Akihito a hard time, came over to stand in front of Akihito, behind the bar. "Are you just saying that so you can get a free drink from me?"

Kou, dressed in black dress pants, black collared dress shirt, fixed with a bowtie, and a white apron, peered over at his friend. He grabbed a towel and started wiping down part of the bar.

Akihito did a little twirl in his seat. "No, I've actually got some good news this time." He grabbed more of the roasted peanuts. "May I please have a water?"

Kou rolled his eyes at his friend. "I'll have to start charging you." He said as he got a glass of water for him. "You know, if you weren't like my best friend since grade school, you wouldn't be getting free drinks all the time." With that, the bartender put a fruity colored drink, garnished with a strawberry, in front of Akihito.

"Thanks Kou! I didn't even tell you my good news." He said while taking a sip from his virgin drink. "Aw, what. There's no alcohol in this." He said while eating the strawberry.

"You trying to make me loose my job? I would get fired if I served alcohol to someone under 21."

Akihito took another sip of his drink. "You're only 20. How are you a bartender?" Akihito reached over and grabbed a handful of peanuts.

Kou looked at Akihito with a 'do I seriously have to explain?' expression. "I can serve alcohol, I just can't drink it, numb nuts. You still haven't told me what we're celebrating for." Kou went back to wiping down the bar and re-positioning some bottles and glasses.

Akihito got up on his knees in his seat and leaned over the bar with an excited look on his face. "I got another job and some money is coming in!" Akihito sat back down in his seat and downed the rest of his nonalcoholic beverage.

"That's great, Akihito. Just don't get shot at this time." Kou said.

Akihito rolled his eyes at his concern. The bartender came over and looked at his friend to meet his eyes. "I'm serious. One of these days, you might slip up and never come back." Kou looked at his life long friend with worry in his eyes.

Akihito looked away from his friend. "Are you getting sappy on me? I can take care of myself." He hopped down from his stool. "I got to go. I have to meet with the detective to get the details. I'll see you later Kou!" He said while going out the door.

Kou looked after his best friend exiting the bar. "See you later, Akihito." He went back to wiping down his bar.

 

 

Akihito climbed the steps to the Shinjuku police station the second time that day. He entered the doors and went to the receptionist desk. "I have an appointment with Detective Yamazaki." Akihito looked at the lady behind the desk just mindlessly shuffling papers.

The lady, that had her messy brunette hair in a bun, looked up from her mindless shuffling. She looked through her thick rimmed glasses at the punk kid that didn't even introduce himself. She looked at him for a good two minutes then back down at her desk. "Um, excuse me. I need to talk with Detective Yamazaki." The kid started to tap the edge of her desk.

The receptionist put down her papers and took off her glasses. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to introduce yourself, then say what you're here for?"

The teenager looked a bit confused. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Takaba Akihito here to see Detective Yamazaki, and no, my mother...left... when I was 8, so she didn't get a chance to teach me much of anything." The lady continued to stare at Akihito with confusion written across her face. The teenager started to get flustered and threw up his hands. "Come on, Amaya-san. Did you just want me to sneak past you like I do anyways?" The kid started waving his hands around.

She continued to stare at the kid who seemed to be having a stroke, in her mind's eye. A few more seconds past, then finally, the stubborn lady broke her silence. "Detective Yamazaki left about a half hour ago. But, he did leave this note for some moppy haired blonde kid." She reached into her lap drawer and pulled out a white envelope with "Takaba Akihito" written on it.

"The moppy haired blonde kid is me!" Akihito said while he jumped up and down.

The receptionist gave a confused look as to why this kid standing in front of her was so happy.

He was always sneaking past her desk to meet up with that crummy detective. He was always so... excited about something or other. His innocence and corruptibility making him sort of famous in the office. There was even bets going around to see when he would fall off the deep end and get involved with drugs and, in his cute case, prostitution. But, ever since this kid started chasing after crooks and actually putting some behind bars with his photos at age 15, he hasn't fallen. He tip toes right on the edge, but has never fallen.

"Here you go." The lady gave the envelope over to the photographer. The woman may be giving the teenager a hard time, but she always softened up when he was in her presence. "Alright, Takaba. Go do some good." she said while pointing a manicured finger at him, "Don't end up in the obituary."

Akihito made light of that comment. He gave a corny grin and responded, "Pshh, I got this." He said while heading out the door, envelope in hand.

The lady watched the kid exit the police station. She smiled to herself and at the boy's seemingly endless joy. She went back to shuffling papers.

The spry freelancer nearly ran towards his apartment, too eager to open up the letter. He was too afraid to open it up on the streets. Detective Yamazaki never gave him the information in a letter. It was always by word of mouth. That's why, sometimes he was sent to the wrong place or at the wrong time. The detective never put this much effort into giving him the details of his next job.

He got to his apartment building in less than half an hour. He arrived at his little apartment a bit after eleven o'clock in the late morning. It was about lunch time, and all he had eaten today was that doughnut, a few peanuts, and a strawberry. No time to go and find something to eat now. He has a lead.

Akihito went through his unlocked door to his apartment, threw the many latches, locking the door, and sat on the edge of his bed. 

The young man wasn't worried about leaving his apartment unlocked when he wasn't there. He had almost nothing of value anyhow. Anything he did have of value, he took with him. Also, no intruder ever got past the landlady and her spoon.

Akihito held the envelope in his hand and ripped it open with his teeth. Such etiquette. He took out the folded piece of paper and read it.

_Drug deal going down at the Kamanari Opera House._

_Time:1:00am_

Akihito looked over at the clock on the wall that read 11:22. "Hmm, opera house. That's high class. Oh, wait, it's that old abandoned one just a few blocks away. That place is creepy. Dark, dank, and obscured. Right up my ally." He talked to himself again. He laid the note on top of his mini fridge and went over to the x-box. He fired it up and grabbed his controller. He turned on the T.V. and the image of a person dressed in common street clothes holding a gun appeared.

The teen took off his backpack and hung it around the bathroom doorknob. He then went back to his bed and lounged on it. He had enough presence of mind to slip off his sneakers, disrobe his camo t-shirt, and his khakis, leaving on a pair of black boxers. 

The gamer played a good four hours of his videogame. He loved the game because it was a comical version of what actually happens on a daily basis around him. He loves the scenarios he plays where he's the drug dealer, or the car thief, or the gang leader. It was funny how he played the game. Even though he played it in real life. Only, he was just the observer, never taking part in any of it.

Akihito glanced up at his clock. 3:45. "Alright, enough of that." He set the controller down and turned off the television and went back to bed. He set his watch for 11:30pm. He pulled the cover over his eyes to block out the sun coming through his window. 

Within a few minutes, the freelance photographer went into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

"Camera, check, zoom lens, check, binoculars, check." Akihito, dressed in dark clothing and a hoodie, was packing up everything in his camera pack, which was firmly strapped to his waist. He checked the time. "Oh, digital watch, check." 

The young photographer went over to the mini fridge and took one last look at the note. "I didn't know Yamazaki wrote so nicely." He put the letter back down and headed for his mirror in the bathroom.

A few finger combs through his blonde hair, a brush of his strait teeth, and a final check on his equipment. Akihito was ready for tonight. But, before he went out his door, he stopped short. He looked over at his bed, in particular, one of his drawers. He went over to the drawer and pulled it out, ruffled through some clothes, and pulled out an old black flip phone. He opened the phone and something fell out of it. He put, whatever it was, back in the phone and closed the phone.

It seemed so insignificant, an old flip phone. Something that is used, then discarded. A phone that is a decade old doesn't make it long in the new age of touch screens, smart phones, and androids. But the blonde haired boy brought the phone to his lips and kissed it. He then put it in his pant pocket and patted the pocket lightly. He got up from his knees and headed for the door.

Akihito went down the numerous flights of stairs until he exited the broken front door. He was about to take off at a jog when a girl's sweet, light voice met his ears.

"Hello, Akihito-chan!" Akihito turned around to see one of his neighbors sitting on the stair ledge. The girl had jean shorts on and a jacket that had "baby" written in glitter on the chest. She had long dark hair, a baby face, and was underweight for her age. She was only eleven years old.

She rested her head on her knees that were bent up to her chest. "How are you Aki-chan? Are you going out on another job?"

The photographer walked over to the girl and sat down next to her. "What are you doing out here so late?" He didn't want to answer her questions.

The girl looked at Akihito with a tinge of sorrow in her eyes. "Waiting for my mom to get back from work. Her shift just started, so I'll be here a while."

Akihito looked into her dark green eyes with empathy. "It's going to be okay. Your mother will come home soon." He sat with her for a few minutes just watching the sky and the stars. He knew what her mother did in order to put food on the table. He also knew that her mother would do anything to keep her daughter out of her business and this is why she works late nights and does things for her clients that degrades who she is as a woman. 

The sympathetic blonde haired kid gave the little girl a big hug. "Don't stay out too late." The girl nodded her head and waved goodbye to him as he got up and jogged away.

The girl stood up on her ledge and watched Akihito until he disappeared behind a corner of a building. She then looked up to the stars. "Please send an angel to protect him." The girl went back into the apartment building, listening to Akihito's advice. 

The pumped up freelancer took a few dark back alleys, crossed some busy streets with cars zooming by and honking, and jumped a few gates to get to the opera house. The place looked so desolate that not even the homeless took up residence in the abandoned building.

He was standing off to the side of the small opera house, surveying it. "Well, I'm not going through the obvious front door, maybe there's a ladder in the back to get to the roof." He glanced down to his watch. 11:56pm.

The Kaminari Opera House was truly abandoned. The windows were either busted out or shattered. Graffiti of various gangs painted the outside of the opera house rather then the original red color. The balcony overlooking the parking lot was literally falling off the side of the building. It looked like it hasn't been used in over thirty years. Of course, anything that stays abandoned too long on the bad side of town, will age really quickly.

The young reporter made a wide circle around the whole opera house until he saw a service ladder that was going up the side of the building, hopefully to the very top. He jumped the chain link fence that had a faded yellow sign with some peeling words that read, "Demolition Site. Do Not Enter". Akihito was never meant to follow rules. He went for the rusted ladder and started to climb. Akihito looked over the parking lot to the street where cars drove by, unsuspecting of what will go down in this building tonight. He looked up at the moon that was making a perfect spot light for him.

The area was mostly quiet, apart from the cars driving by and the distant conversations of the people hanging out around the various convenience stores.

The freelancer lifted his head and smelled the moldy air and started to smile to himself. He loved the smell of adventure. Akihito made it to the top of the opera house in no time and jumped over the edge onto the roof.

There were a few dormant vent stacks and a couple of trap doors scattered about the roof. The young reporter  took one step and heard a large creaking sound. Like the roof was going to give way at any moment. He stepped lightly over to the first trap door and opened it. It dropped strait down to where the audience would be seated in the opera house. He went to the second trap door, opened it, and peered in. This trap door would have led to what would have been the hanging chandelier. Most likely for maintenance reasons. The chandelier long since fallen on the audience's seats below. He went over to the third trap door. Bingo. This last one lead to hanging wooden bridges that spanned the top of the stage.

The young photographer shimmied down this last trap door onto one of the swaying wooden planks, held up solely by ropes and pulleys.

The curtains across the stage were in tatters and were left hanging open, so he had a full view of the opera house. He glanced down at his watch. 12:17am. "Awesome, I got some time to get settled." He brought out his binoculars and took a full sweep of the place.

There were private booths on the third floor, a seating area that curved into a 'U' on the second floor, and a whole seating area for the audience on the first floor with aisles going up and down, just like a movie theater. There were some pillars holding up the second floor and the private booths seemed to be suspended in midair. The chandelier laid in its final resting place in the middle of the audience's seat. The painting of various artists and writers were faded and peeling off the walls and off the ceiling. The orchestra pit looked like it was abandoned while the band was still playing. Old sheet music still on the few stands were left behind. The stage had about an inch of dust on it. The back room where the performers got ready looked like a creepy version of a haunted house. Chairs, clothing racks, and various props laid in a heap of dust. Cobwebs spread across the place like a giant blanket. Statures that looked like they were holding up the walls were crumbling and were not doing their jobs. It looked like the last show that was here must have been decades ago.

Akihito looked back to the double doors and waited for his own show to begin.

After about forty minutes in the quiet room with only the light of the moon, peeking through the holes of the roof, to keep him company, the concealed photographer lifted his sore chest off the ground a little bit. He did the downward dog position, trying to work out the crick in his back. He laid back down on his stomach again and looked at his watch. 1:05am. "Come on, why are these guys always late?" As if his words signaled the meeting to commence, three scrawny guys and one buff guy walked through the two wooden front doors, causing the doors to protest at the intrusion with a creaking noise. "There you guys are." The freelancer whispered. He grabbed his binoculars and peered at the men.

 The four guys made there way down the main aisle to the edge of the orchestra pit. There steps caused a few rats to scurry about in the room and some of the debris in the building to shift position. The opera house was telling them to leave. The little group made their way to the railing that prevented anyone from accidentally falling into the pit.

"Why did we have to come to this crappy place?" One of the scrawny darkly clothed men started to ask. A piece of the ceiling fell down as if to say 'Crappy? Who's crappy here, kind sir?' 

The big guy looked at his subordinate. "Like I told you, it's a trap. This place is perfect because it has all these little nooks and crannies." The husky man folded his arms and stared at the wooden doors. Waiting for something.

"Well, we could just kick this place a couple of times and it would fall in on them." The little guy spoke again.

The man, who is most likely the leader of the gang, growled through clenched teeth. "We need to shoot him by our own hand to make a name for ourselves. No more scrounging about for little drug deals and smuggling. Now you," he said while pointing to another one of his goons, "get up to that private booth and wait for my signal." He pointed to a private booth over to the right. "Don't shoot until he is right in front of me and I give the signal." The man nodded and disappeared into a side room that led to the booth.

The talkative little man wouldn't stop. "Now what?"

The leader was getting agitated. "We wait, and keep your mouth shut." He said while making a 'close your mouth' gesture with his hand.

Akihito was sitting up on his suspended bridge breathing hard. They are going to lure someone into a trap. This isn't a drug deal, it's a planned murder. The photographer shifted on his perch and caused his little bridge to creak.

As soon as that noise went off, all three of the men standing below looked up. Akihito stilled his movements and quieted his breath. His heart was pounding in his ears. Blood rushed to his tingling hands and feet. Some sweat was falling off of his face, soaking into the aged wood planks. He flared his nostrils in an attempt to get more oxygen to his cramped body. He stayed very still for the next agonizingly slow seconds that passed.

"Damn rats." The leader said after a few seconds of staring at the darkness above the stage. The man then looked over to the hiding booth. "You ready?" A hand popped up over the railing of the booth with a thumbs up before it disappeared again. "Good."

Everyone in the opera house stood there in silence for five more minutes until the wooden doors opened once more.

Two large men, looking like they could bring the building down just by walking, dressed in black suits and gun holsters, doing their job, entered the rundown opera house and looked around. They spotted the three men down the middle aisle and made eye contact. One of the suited men opened the door again, waiting for someone else to enter. 

Akihito, laying down on his little perch, thought it would just be another old man still grabbing onto his youth with doing these little dealings, but the person that entered was far from that. What entered from the door was a man radiating with power and danger. He was a bit shorter than the first two that walked in, but he was more muscular. Filling out his suit nicely. The man raked a hand through black hair and slicked it back. Everything about the man screamed 'if you mess with me, you're dead.'

Akihito, trying to focus his binoculars on the man, who was only lit up by the moon that was peeking through the collapsing roof, was temporarily star struck. For a man like that to enter a building as shabby as this should be a crime. He had an expensive pressed black suit with shiny black dress shoes. The only thing that was not dark about him was the shining silver on the guns he showed off under he suit coat. The handsome man strode towards the gang with the grace of a butterfly and the ferociousness of a lion.

Akihito stifled a gasp as he noticed the gold eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Those eyes, by themselves, could cut down a man.

The three nicely suited men walked towards the trio. The black haired man in front while his two bodyguards on either side of him. They approached the scruffy looking men and stopped three feet in front of them. The nicely dressed man took a stance and stared at the leader of the little gang.

The leader of the little gang took this as a permission to speak. "Thank you for meeting us here. I would like to-" The leader was cut off by a hand that was held up by the black haired man, who was most likely the boss of his bigger, more dangerous group.

The man lowered his gaze onto the gang leader and put his hands on his gun holsters. "You and your little goons have been causing too much trouble for me. What drugs you bring in are always below quota, you draw too much attention to yourself, and you're power hungry, which is not ideal for me. You are no longer allowed to deal with me or my men. If I or my subordinates see you or your little gang, you will be killed immediately." The deep baritone voice filled the room and echoed off the walls causing dust to fall.

Akihito put down his binoculars and wiped his sweaty hands down his sides. That voice sent chills down his spine. He was truly scared of what was going on down there. He temporarily forgot about the secret assassin. He should get a couple of good pictures, then skedaddle out of there.

"Well, we have other plans." As the gang leader raised his hand, Akihito took a couple of shots. As the camera was clicking, flashes of light filled the opera house, bathing the men down below in temporary light.

Akihito gritted his teeth. "Damn it."

"Someone's spying on us!" The gang leader was now pointing to the dark area up in the rafters.

"I'll get him!" Came a voice from the booth off to the right. At this, shots rang out towards the suspended bridges.

"No!" The leader was shaking a fist at the guy shooting erratically. "Shoot him! Shoot him!" The leader pointed at the golden eyed, black haired man, who now had a gun trained on the jumping leader.

The two body guards had already shot the other two goon, behind the leader, before they could even draw their guns. They were now pointing their guns towards the booth and shooting.

"Shit!" The hidden gunman was shot and staggered to the edge of the booth, then fell from the booth to his death on the chairs below.

Silence filled the room. Only the hard breathing of the remaining gang member filled the air. The ominous flashes forgotten at the moment. The whole shooting out took less then 10 seconds and three people lay dead.

The fearless boss of the suits pointed his personal gun, a .44 magnum, at the leaders head. "See? Power hungry. Gets you in trouble. Makes you stupid." With that, the man pulled the trigger before the scruffy leader had a chance to even blink again. The sound of the gun, echoing through the building, caused some debris to fall. The bullet ripped through the man's head, splattering his brains on the floor, bathing the floor in a crimson red. He was dead before he fell over the railing into the pit.

The man whipped out a handkerchief and proceeded to wipe down his gun while it was still smoking. He turned to is body guards. "It seems, gentlemen, that this was a trap."

One of the men stepped forward. A dark haired man with glasses started to speak. "What shall we do about the spy, Asami-sama?" He said while looking up to the dark area above the stage.

Back above the stage, Akihito laid on his back and was whimpering. He felt around his body to see if he was hurt. Through all the commotion, he didn't even realize that he had been shot in his shoulder. He grabbed at his shoulder as the blood flowed around his fingers and dripped onto the stage below. He cracked open his eyes and looked down at the remaining scene.

The gang that was supposed to kill the suited men, got killed, and now those men were headed onto the stage and looking up in his direction. The young photographer kept still and silent. They never stay behind to find the rat. They always leave. These high end men have no dealings with one lowly freelancer.

Down on the stage, the three men were walking around and looking up into the shadows. The boss of this high end group, called Asami, knelt down over a few drops of blood and wiped them up with another handkerchief. He looked over and noticed a cellphone lying not too far from the blood. He collected the phone as well. "Kirishima," He called over the man with glasses. "Take Suoh and find a way up on those suspended bridges." The man saw another drop of blood drip down near him. "Whoever is up there is still here." The boss looked up to the darkness above him. Staring at the outline of a reclined man.

Without a word, the two well built men headed for a couple of ropes that were dangling from unknown anchors above.

Akihito grabbed his chest. They're coming for me! They never do that! He scrambled to his feet as best he could with his injured shoulder and grabbed his camera, binoculars, and...crap, where was his phone?

"Hey! Stop right there!" Akihito looked up at the big man that had climbed up to his perch with surprising speed. The man was now shaking his bridge with his weight. Oh crap! Akihito ran backward only to find another large man advancing on him from the other side. Shit! He did a daring feet and jumped on another nearby plank bridge and headed for his trap door. "Stop!" As Akihito got to his escape door, a hand reached out and grabbed his foot as it was disappearing above.

"Let go of me!" The photographer yelled. He kicked back and landed a good kick in the chin of his pursuer. His foot was released with a growl from the man below.

Asami watched the jumping photographer as he escaped. His men looked down from the bridges with defeat in their faces. The black haired man raked his fingers through his hair. A smirk spread across his face at the recent developments.

Akihito, fueled by adrenaline, ran across the crumbling roof and was causing it to cave in even more. He got to the ladder and almost lost his grip going down. The blood was wetting his hands and running down his jacket. With only one hand to hobble down with, it was pretty hard for him to get down safely. Once he hit the ground, he grabbed his bleeding shoulder, bolted across the parking lot, and ran through a large opening in the fence that appeared out of nowhere.

The hobbling teen looked back and saw a sleek, black limousine parked in front of the opera house with a driver waiting beside it. He noticed the three men exit the decaying building.

Akihito turned away from the crumbling establishment and its last guests. He ran to nearest alleyway and disappeared into the night.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The black haired man got into his awaiting limo as he watched the injured party crasher disappear into an alleyway. He climbed into the back seat and took off his coat and laid it down on the seat next to him. Kirishima followed him in and sat across from his boss. Suoh took the passenger seat next to the driver. "Where would you like to go, Asami-sama?" The driver asked.

Asami took out the old flip phone from his jacket pocket and turned it over in his hand. "To my office. There is some work to be done."

Kirishima leaned over to the window and looked out, then back at his boss. "Are we not going after this person, Asami-sama?"

Asami also looked out of the tinted window towards the alleys and answered. "No, he went down an alleyway. We have no chance of finding him as dark as it is." He went back to looking at the phone. He tried to turn it on. It was dead as a doornail. The suited man shook his head and tried to take off the back of the phone to get to the Network IC hard drive. The phone flipped open and a folded piece of paper fluttered to the floor of the limo. The car started forward as he bent down to pick up the stray piece of paper. He unfolded it into a three by five picture that was severely creased and faded.

The secretary leaned up and turned on an overhead light for his boss.

The picture depicted a young boy with an older lady. The woman had her frail arm around the boy's shoulder. It looked like the duo was sitting in a hospital bed. There was some hospital equipment in the background. 

The boy was smiling a big white toothy smile as the woman seemed to be giving a pained, stained tooth smile. The fragile woman looked like she had gone through some chemotherapy because she had little hair and her skin hung off of her cheeks and chin. The boy had bright blue eyes and messy blonde hair that resembled a mop, while the women had faded hazel eyes and tangled, short, dirty blonde hair. The bright eyed boy had part of his arm in the camera frame as if holding up his camera to take the picture. He was wearing a tank top that showed off his collar bone while the lady was wearing a hospital gown that covered herself.

Everything in the picture complimented the boy's beauty, brightness, spirit, and courage.

After studying the picture intently, Asami flipped the picture over and noticed an inscription in flowing, black pen on the back. 

_To my dear Aki, Happy Birthday. I hope the flip phone and camera serve you well. This may be the last time I'm able to speak to you. Please don't be sad. Never lose sight of who you are and who you want to be. Love, and you will be loved. Care, and you will be cared for. Feel, and the world will present itself around you._ _The ones you love are never gone, they're always in your heart._ _When I'm in heaven, I'll send you an angel to protect you. All my love, your dearest mother._

Asami noticed the numbers " **5:13** " written in thick faded pencil at the bottom left hand corner of the picture. He flipped the picture over and showed it to his secretary, Kirishima. "Do you know either of these people?"

Kirishima leaned forward and studied the picture. "The boy in the picture looks like the spy we chased out of the opera house, although he looks much younger in this picture. I can't say for sure." Kirishima leaned back in his seat, grabbed a bottle of bronze liquid and a glass. He poured a drink and handed it over to his boss. "What shall we do about this photographer, Asami-san?" Kirishima took out a folder and started rummaging through it. The secretary never stopped working.

Asami took the glass from Kirishima and swirled the liquid in the glass. He stared down into it. Like looking into a crystal ball he often thought about the future and predicted it while staring into his drink and at the swirling motions.

This kid, most likely not even out of his teens, was out there running around getting himself into trouble and this time, shot. What he has seen, heard, or knows, is probably information that can take down anyone and anything. The boy from the picture, most likely the same boy that his men chased, is the key to the city. Not to mention, he saved the most feared yakuza in all of Japan with a mishap from his camera. What Asami didn't know is if he works for someone already, or if he is in a debt, or if he is being black mailed. The list can go on for miles as to what this kid can be caught up in.

The yakuza leaned his head back on his leather seat, thinking about all these variables, and stared out of the sunroof at the moon, thinking about the injured little cameraman who managed to escape his best men. "We find him."


	5. Chapter 5

Akihito ran through the streets and down back alleys as fast as he could. His shaking legs and bleeding arm weren't helping at all. He could feel the warm liquid traveling down his arm, soaking into his jacket and jeans. He was sweating profusely in the cold night. His thumping feet sending shivers and pain strait to his injury. He didn't stop running until he got to his crummy apartment.

The neighborhood bums that he had passed didn't even look up at the running, bleeding teen. They were most likely knocked out on horse tranquilizers that allow them to forget about where they are in their life.

Akihito ran up the stairs, down his hallway, and into his room. Even though it hurt a lot and he needed to wash his wound, he locked the many bolts and chains that prevented any intruders. He went strait to the bathroom and hung his camera pack on the bathroom door knob. He had enough mind to slip off his shoes before he got in the tub. Being in the tub made for easy cleanup. 

Still fully dressed, he started the pain staking task of peeling off his jacket. "Shit!" He ended up getting a pair of grooming scissors from his cabinet and cut his sleeve off. It made it a bit more easier to take off the bloody jacket. He shed his tank top and pants, also blood spotted, onto the floor. He left his boxers on as he turned on the shower. He sat down in the tub and just let the water wash over him. Pink water swirled down the drain as Akihito's white boxers took on a light pinkish hue.

The teen exhaled deeply and laid still. Too afraid of checking his shoulder to see what kind of damage was done.

Water droplets were running down his shaggy hair as his shoulder was massaged by the falling water. His legs were numb from all the running, his stomach twisted with the need to eat, and his chest was still sore from laying down so long.

"I knew that camera would get me hurt one of these days. I didn't know it was going to be this bad." Akihito knew it wasn't the camera's fault. After all, it wasn't the one taking the pictures. The camera was just the inanimate object. But, the teen gave his camera human attributes since it was the only thing that survived and still worked through all the years. He would never give up the camera. That was his life.  

Akihito started to rock himself in the tub.

The promising photographer never been shot before and he was currently going into shock. He was shivering and his heart was pumping hard to make up for the blood loss and the low blood pressure. As his world faded to black, Akihito closed his eyes and let his mind drift away to a better, painless world. He spent the rest of the night lounging in his tub, waiting for his pain to cease existing.

 

Akihito awoke to a pounding in his head and a pounding at the door. He put a hand up to the side of his head to try to stop the pounding in his head, but there was nothing to do for the pounding at the door. 

"Takaba Akihito! You're using all of the water in the entire building! Shut it off! Open the door!" Akihito could recognize the shrilling voice of his landlady anywhere. In his painful haze, he stumbled out of the tub, soaking wet. The shower, that was a consistent waterfall from last night, was now a small trickle. He reached over and turned the knobs to shut it off. He walked lazily to the door, leaving behind wet footprints on his floor. He unlocked his door with his good arm and looked at the angry lady.

"Akihito, do you know how much... Oh dear, what happened to your arm?" The lady now realized that the kid was hurt and was touching his hurt arm. "You need help, sweetie."

His arm was now oozing blood at a slow trickle. Not as bad as last night, but something still had to be done so he doesn't loose all of his blood.

Akihito drew his arm away from the old lady and looked at her through tired, tear filled eyes. "You're only nice to me when I've been shot?" His words were a bit rushed and slurred. He didn't mean to say mean things, but he was just trying to divert his anger from himself to the lady.

The lady grew wide eyed at the fact that her tenant was shot. Not thinking anything of the insult, the lady grabbed his good arm and pulled him through the door. "Oh, honey. We've got to get you some help. Can you afford to go to the hospital?" The lady was leading Akihito down the hallway towards the stairs.

Akihito, too out of it to protest, answered feebly. "No."

"Then I'll take you to the community clinic. It's 7:30 in the morning, so we'll be the first ones there." The landlady said as she guided the injured boy, only dressed in his boxers, down the numerous stairs. She led him to a side street to an old station wagon. She opened the back car door and laid the young man down in the back seat. The lady, stilled dressed in her night gown with curlers in her hair, got in the driver seat and headed for the clinic.

They got to the free clinic just as it was opening the doors. The lady got out of the driver's seat and waved at the woman who was opening up the clinic. "Please help! I have a young man whose been shot." She said, pointing to the back seat.

The clinic worker, dressed in white nurses scrubs, jogged over to the car and peered in. She opened the back door and reached in. "Let's get him inside." The two women hulled an unconscious Akihito into the clinic.

Akihito awoke with a numbing pain in his shoulder. He groaned loudly and reached over to touch his shoulder. It had gauze and bandages on it and it was in a sling. He tried to sit up, but as soon as he tried, a case of vertigo washed over him and he laid his head back on the paper covered pillow.

A nurse came over and put a cool hand on his forehead. "Try to relax, the doctor had to give you some medication for the pain. You're very lucky. The bullet only grazed you. I'm surprised you didn't bleed out, though. You must have someone watching over you."

Akihito opened his eyes and looked up at the nurse in white scrubs with ducks on them. "Where am I?" The teen's voice came out in a rasp.

The nurse, with concern in her eyes, looked upon the boy. "You're at the free clinic. Don't worry about a thing. Since you are considered impoverished, your visit is paid for. But, you must leave in about an hour because the clinic only allows a maximum of two hours for each visit." The nurse said this with pain in her voice because she wanted to keep caring for her patient until he was healthy and healed.

"Okay. Thank you. How bad is it? I have to say thank you to my landlady." Akihito closed his eyes and was content with listening to the sweet voice of the nurse.

The nurse smiled at the boy for thinking about another person in his state. "Don't worry, she knows. She left after she knew you were alright. You had to get some stitches put in, but other than that, you'll be up and about in no time." The nurse watched the face of the boy. The boy looked a little like her son that was lost to her in a gang shootout.

Her son was walking home one day because she couldn't pick him up on the account of her desk job. He was just coming home from school and was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is why she became a nurse and quit her crummy job. To help those that are hurt and to make up for the ones that she couldn't help in time.

A tear formed at the corner of the nurse's eye and she quickly wiped it away, not wanting the boy to see her and also get sad. 

Akihito cracked open an eye as the nurse made a little sniffle. "Thank you so much. Can you please tell me when my hour is up and I'll get out of your way?" Akihito gave the nurse a light smile.

The nurse returned the smile and ran her fingers through his hair in a motherly way. "Of course. There are some clothes over there on the chair for you that were donated." The nurse continued to run her fingers through his hair until the boy closed his eyes and started to doze off. "You are such a sweet boy to exist in this mean world." The nurse cooed. 

The nurse reluctantly left the room to allow for her patient to rest for just a little bit. "Such a sweet boy."

Akihito awoke as soon as he heard the door close behind the nurse. At that moment, the drug started to get worked out of his system and the pain of his wound started to come forth. He sat up a little on his table and looked at his arm. "Well, at least I didn't die. This is going to be a gnarly scar." Akihito slung his legs off the table and tried to stand. He wobbled a little bit and leaned against the table. "Whoa, whoa." He slowly made his way over to the clothes and began the agonizing task of dressing himself in the baggy pants and the oversized t-shirt. He slipped on a pair of sandals that were provided for him and sat in the chair. The teen leaned his head back and started to think.

Who were those men? Why did they chase after me? I need to talk to Yamazaki. I wonder how Kou's doing. I hope those men don't find me.

The photographer started to moan as all of those thoughts rambled through his mind. He wiped his sleeve across his nose and eyes and stood up. "Buck up, Akihito. You could have been killed last night, but you weren't." He went over to a little sink in the room and drank some water out of the tap, using his hand as a cup. He looked around to try to find out what time it was and noticed a wall clock that read, 9:45am. He took a look at his bandaged shoulder in the mirror, that was above the sink. He checked his bandages and his sling and headed for the door.

Akihito walked through the small clinic reception area where there was already a line out the door. He past by the nurse that had helped him.

The nurse looked away from a patient that was complaining about a stomach ache and spotted the boy exiting her clinic. "Have a nice day. If you need anything, just come back and I'll help you." The nurse smiled a kind smile as she watched the teen exit the clinic.

"Thank you so much." The kid waved a goodbye to her with his good arm.

Akihito walked out of the clinic and headed back for his apartment. It was an overcast day, so it was a pleasant cool walk back to his place. It took him about half an hour to get to his apartment.

The sauntering teen was about to enter the broken door when a girl, sitting on the steps, said hello. "Hi, Aki-chan. What happened to you?" The girl noticed the sling on his arm. The girl from before, still dressed in her 'baby' jacket, was staring at Akihito waiting for an answer.

The kid faked a smile. "Oh, nothing. I just got scrapped a little bit." He took a seat next to the girl.

The girl had a knowing smirk on her face. "You need a sling for that?" She said while touching his bad arm. She didn't want to let him know that she knew what happened to him. The landlady is a bit of a gossiper.

Akihito, totally ignoring her, changed the subject. "Why are you sitting out here? Not that there's anything wrong with it."

"I'm waiting for my mom. She didn't come home." The girl stared out onto the streets, waiting. There were people passing by their apartment. None of them was the mother that the girl was looking for.

Akihito felt a bit sad inside for her. "I'm sorry. Your mom is coming home. She's probably just late."

The adolescent looked at her friend with a pained look in her eyes. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better. I may need to go look for my mom."

The blonde looked at the girl. "No, that's dangerous. Just promise me you'll give it a few more days. Don't go out there running into trouble. Trust me, it gets bad out there. Are you okay on money? I don't want you to go hungry or homeless." The boy could feel his stomach tie up in knots at his neighbor's situation. He couldn't exactly do anything for her. He just wanted to make sure that his neighbor was okay.

The girl gave her friend a wide smile. "Don't worry, Aki-chan. I can take care of my own. Besides, my mom stashed some cash for a rainy day. I guess this is it." She said while putting her palm up to the sky as if checking for rain.

Akihito felt better at this. "Alright, that's good. I guess. I'll catch you later." He got up from the stoop and headed for the broken door.

Akihito wished he could do a lot more for his neighbor. But, he had his own situation and problems to attend to. He couldn't worry about someone else at this time. His stomach clenched at leaving the girl behind, waiting for her mother that may not be coming back.

"Bye, Aki-chan." The sweet girl waved goodbye to her friend.

The photographer climbed the tedious stairs thinking about the girl's life. He knew her mother played a dangerous game. It might have gone bad this last time. "Maybe I can pull some strings and ask around the police station if they picked up any "chauffeurs" lately." He said to himself.

His mind was wondering when he arrived at his apartment. He was going to his door and tried the doorknob. It was locked, which was strange. He never needed to lock the door from the outside.

Akihito tried the door again and even banged on the door to try to break it open. Maybe it was just stuck on something.

The teen suddenly jumped back as he heard someone in his apartment, rustling around. He stepped back and stared at his door.

"Oh, no! They already found me." He whispered and laid a hand on his bad shoulder.

The intruder must have heard him at the door because the door suddenly flew open and caught a rigid Akihito totally by surprise. He was caught so off guard that he stepped back and toppled over. He started to hyperventilate at the sheer surprise of who was in his apartment. 


	6. Chapter 6

"Akihito! Are you okay?" The landlady came out of his apartment and put a hand on the fallen boy.

The shocked teen looked up at his landlady with confusion in his eyes. He took a few deep breaths before he could talk. "Wha, wha, what are you doing in my apartment?" Akihito put a hand to his heart to make sure his heart was still pumping.

"Sorry I gave you a jump scare." Ignoring his question, the lady carefully pulled Akihito up by his good arm and led him into his apartment. She deposited the shivering boy on his bed.

A delicious scent was coming from Akihito's makeshift kitchen. The pink footprints, that led from the bathroom were cleaned up off the laminate floor. The teen peered into his bathroom and noticed that it shined like its never been used. No hint of what happened to him earlier that morning.

Akihito leaned back on the wall, closed his eyes, and let the smell of curry with carrots, potatoes, and onions fill his nostrils. His mouth started to water from tasting the air. He opened his eyes and watched the woman in his apartment do some dishes, prepare the food, and sweep the floor. The young teen didn't question why the lady was in his apartment, cleaning and cooking. His mind was too consumed on what had happened to him and how bad he messed up. His breathing started to slow as the pain in his shoulder started to ebb. He watched his landlady come over with a bowl of food and set it next to him.

"Eat." Her motherly instincts were coming out.

Akihito looked at the delicious food then back at the landlady. "Why are you being so nice to me and doing all this for me?" He said with disbelief written on his face.

The woman looked longingly at Akihito. "I felt bad for what happened to you. You're just a sweet boy that got caught up in something bad. Also, I wanted to make it up to you for not realizing that you came in and almost bled to death while I was yelling at you to turn off your water. Also, you're one of the few tenants that manage to pay. Sometimes late, but you still manage." The boy smiled at the woman. The woman returned the smile, then it was replaced by a serious face. "But don't take this as a free pass to skimp on my rent. It's due by next Monday." The lady went out of his door with a slam, cementing the fact that she's serious. Leaving him in his clean apartment with his food.

Akihito looked at the food then back at the door. "Thank you."

The hungry photographer scarfed down his meal. His stomach rarely felt the liberation of being comfortably full. It even extended a little at all the curry he ate. 

Akihito started to look around his apartment. He spotted his camera bag on the doorknob of his bathroom and breathed a sigh of relief. He was worried in his painful haze that he had forgotten the bag. He hauled himself out of bed and checked his bag for the contents. Camera, check, zoom lens, check, binoculars, check, the phone...the phone?

The teen threw the bag on his bed and started to tear it apart. His phone was nowhere to be found. Akihito looked all around his apartment. No phone. He grabbed the pants he was wearing and checked the pockets. No phone. "Shit! The one time I bring it with me! Damn it!"  In his adrenaline haze at the opera house, the amateur photographer accidentally lost his phone. Akihito started to worry if the men in suits got his phone because if they did, he might be discovered. He might even be killed! At this thought, he started to have a panic attack. "I left my picture in there!"

That picture was the only evidence of a life where Akihito wasn't alone. Where he did have someone that loved him and cared for him, that didn't care about him paying the rent, getting photos, or cared about him out of sympathy. That photo was the only picture evidence that he did have a family that unconditionally loved him.

Akihito went back to his bed and just buried himself in his covers, sobbing. He was shivering even though it wasn't cold. He squeezed his eyes closed to shut out the world.

"Stop crying, Akihito!" The blonde haired kid started to talk to himself. "Everything is going to be okay. You'll just go back to the theater and find your phone." He tried to talk some sense in himself. Even though, deep down, he already knew where his phone was.

The truth was, he didn't care that much about the phone after it was shut off. He couldn't pay the monthly bill anyway. It was too painful to listen to the voicemails that were left by his mother on her deathbed. He just kept it with him because he knew he carried his mother's voice and picture with him. But, now he's lost both.

He rolled over in bed and started to doze off, tear streaks still painted his face. His little outburst cost him all of his energy needed to heal his wound.

The freelancer decided to go incognito for a little bit, hoping that no one would bother him in his injured state.

    

Akihito spent the next week just milling about in his apartment, waiting for the stitches in his arm to dissolve. He mostly spent his time playing videogames, eating the mass amount of curry that his landlady left, nursing his injured arm back to health, and flipping through his photos.

His wound mostly healed with surprising speed. Since the bullet didn't get imbedded in his arm and it didn't hit any major nerves, his arm was almost back to normal. It was still a bit tender, but he didn't worry too much about it.

Akihito decided not to fret about the phone. He could just swing by the opera house and look for it. He kept reassuring himself that his phone was just dropped and that he would get it back with no trouble at all.

On the following Monday morning, Akihito had to go out. His rent was due and he needed some quick cash. He didn't want to step on his landlady's hospitality by not paying on time. He grabbed his binoculars and camera and put them in his string bag.

With digital watch already strapped to his wrist, Akihito stepped out into his part of the town and smelled the air. Being in late August, the air had a crispness to it. It also had the smell of piss, vomit, alcohol, and smoke, but that didn't bother him. He was just glad to be alive and feel the sensation of smelling the air, seeing the people around him, and hearing the sounds of the cars and the birds. One thing that was missing, was his neighbor that usually sat on the stairs. Oh well, hopefully she's eating breakfast with her mom.

The freelancer's first stop was the pawn shop, where he pawned his binoculars. He had the zoom lens, so he didn't really need the binoculars. It turned out, that the binoculars were an antique from WWI. They where genuine WWI memorabilia. That alone brought in just enough money to pay his rent. He often wondered why they had weird inscriptions on them and were encased in leather.

Now with a bigger step in his get along, he headed for the Shinjuku Police Station to try to sort out what happened to him with Detective Yamazaki and to hopefully identify who those men were.

The young reporter climbed the familiar concrete steps of the Police Station and entered the double glass doors.

"Good morning Amaya-san. Is Detective Yamazaki in?" The receptionist didn't look away from her laptop on her desk. "Oh, that's right. I'm Takaba Akihito and I'm here to see if Detective Yamazaki is here...please."

Amaya looked away from her laptop with a smile. Happy that she had inadvertently taught the boy some manners. "Haven't seen you in a while, Takaba. He's at his desk. You can see him." She looked up at the photographer then at his shoulder, which was lightly bandaged. "What happened to you?" She said while pointing to his shoulder.

Akihito took a step back. "Oh, uh, this? I got a little scraped up. That's all." He quickly walked around her desk and headed for the detective's desk.

The lady looked at the boy walking away and started shaking her head. She really felt bad for the boy. But, he loved what he was doing, even if he got hurt from time to time. No one was going to tell him what he can and can't do.

Akihito made it over to Yamazaki's desk with minimal sneering and jeering from the other detectives and cops. He snagged a glazed doghnut on his way down the office and wolfed it down before he got to Yamazaki's desk. He got to the detective's desk and took the seat across from him. He was smoking a cigarette and going through some papers. He cleared his throat to get the detective's attention.

Yamazaki was snapped out of his trance and looked up at his photographer. "Akihito! Where have you been? You disappeared for a whole week. You better have a good explanation."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Before I explain, have you picked up any, ahem, 'chauffeurs' lately?" Akihito was thinking about his neighbor before himself.

The detective lifted one eyebrow. "Chauffeurs? What? Have you been hanging around The Hour House lately?"

The freelancer gave the lifted eyebrow look back at the detective. "The Hour House? What's that?"

The detective gave a little huff of disgruntlement. He opened up a whole can of worms. The freelancer will never let this one go without an explanation. "Well, since you're already knee deep in this shit as a... whatever you are,"

"I am a photographer/journalist/detective/crime stopper/freelancer. There's a few more slashes in there, but I'm still figuring out those." The kid interrupted him.

"Yeah, I bet." Yamazaki rolled his eyes and continued. "The Hour House is a human trafficking place. It's rumored to take place in an abandoned warehouse by some canal."

Akihito wondered if it was the same warehouse he was hiding on from before. In fact, he knew it was the same place, because for it being abandoned, it had a nice, new, shiny lock on the door. It was the perfect place for human traffickers to come and go unnoticed. People can come by water or by land. "Why don't you guys do anything about this Hour House."

The detective gave a long exhale. "We are stretched to the max as it is. We don't have the resources to go after some gigantic human trafficking case that was born out of rumor. Also, to answer your previous question, no, we haven't picked up any prostitutes lately. Just drug dealers and addicts of lately."

"I didn't say 'prostitutes.'" The teen corrected.

"You're sugar coating is too sweet for me." Akihito gave the detective and mean look. "Alright, so, what happened to you? Why did you disappear for a whole week?"

The young photographer leaned back in his chair and explained his whole night to the detective. Including his week where he recovered and laid low.

Akihito then described the man who was the leader of the suited men. He described how he pushed his black hair back and how he had a fearless look and air around him.

The detective quirked his eyebrow at how he was describing this guy. Almost like someone describing their crush. "Well, I'm glad you didn't get hurt too bad." The detective seemed to have not cared that Akihito was shot.

"Gee, thanks." Akihito was a bit hurt that Yamazaki didn't care that much about what happened.

The detective shuffled through one of his bottom shelves and pulled out a picture. "That guy you described, does he look like this?" He showed the picture to Akihito. 

The picture showed a profile of a man with jet black hair, gold eyes, and a chiseled chin. It seemed as if the picture's borders couldn't contain the raw power that came from the man. Even in a picture, it looked like if someone messed with the man, they would keel over and die just by staring into his eyes for too long.

Akihito's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he looked at the gorgeous man. "Yeah! That's him!" He said while pointing at the picture.

Yamazaki put his cigarette, only half smoked, down in his ashtray. He started to rub his temples with his thumb and middle finger.

The photographer saw this little display and knew something was odd. The detective rarely let a cheap cigarette go unsmoked. "What?" Akihito furrowed his eyebrows into a  worried look. "Who is that guy?" He was getting frustrated at the detective's prolonged silence.

The detective looked up at Akihito. "Stay away from this man." He said while tapping the picture.

"What? Why?" Akihito was thinking about his phone that he had dropped. His head started to hurt with worry and not knowing of what is going to happen.

"This man's name is Asami Ryuichi. There is almost nothing in the system about him, he is never caught, and his grip on Japan's black market is unimaginable. He is a dangerous man. On the outside, he is just the manager of some high end clubs and casinos. On the inside, he is the reining lord of the underworld of Japan. Keep away from this man." He repeated.

Akihito started to stutter. "But, but, but, you sent me on this lead!" He broke out in a cold sweat.

"What are you talking about? I never sent you on anything. You disappeared for a week and  you never showed up for me to give you the details of your lead." Both of their voices were rising in pitch as they started to talk over each other.

"What am I talking about, what are you talking about? You wrote me a letter and everything!" Now he wished he didn't leave it in his apartment for his landlady to throw away while she cleaned.

"I never did such a... Akihito, I think someone set you up." Akihito eyes opened wider at what he detective was insinuating. "Not uncommon in this business. Damn. I don't know why you were set up, or who set you up, or why this was so elaborate, but you got to watch your back. It's just, I, I don't know." The detective stared past Akihito at something in the distance.

"Oh no." Akihito put his head in his hands. "What am I going to do? Someone knows who I am!" He looked down at his hands. They were shaking.

"I think it would be better if we limit our visits. It would be safer for both of us." Yamazaki suggested.

The photographer looked at his detective friend. "But, you're my main source of income, you stand up for me, and, and, please don't. How am I going to survive?" He continued looking at his shivering hands as if he was going to disappear soon.

The detective pushed over some rolled up yen bills that he retrieved from his pocket. "I suggest you lay low for a while. That's to pay for your previous pictures. We were able to discern who the sellers were. It's enough for your rent and a little more." The detective retrieved his smoldering cigarette and finished it off in one puff.

Akihito looked up from his hands and looked at the yen. "I can't except that. I didn't go through with this last lead. Even though it was the wrong lead." He pushed the yen back to the detective.

"Take it. I... Well... Just take it." Detective Yamazaki pushed the yen into Akihito's lap and got up from his seat and hastily walked away.

Akihito thought his behavior was odd. The detective is never scared, just annoyed, but Akihito saw a hint of fear in his eyes. This gave the photographer a shiver down his spine.

The young freelancer looked down at the bills. He carefully pulled one of the 2000 yen bills out, got a pen, and wrote "Thank You" on the bill, and then set it down on his desk. He got up from the desk and exited the police station as quietly as he could.

Akihito walked the dozen or so blocks to get to his friend's bar. He was worried that his friend was worried about him. Since he visited the bar every other day, it would be peculiar for him to miss a whole week.

The teen arrived at the bar doors and opened them, quite forcefully, and peered around the room. Before he could finish his surveying, a voice rang out across from him.

"Akihito! Where have you been, man?" Kou, in his usual snazzy bar uniform, set down the bin of glasses he was carrying from the kitchen on a table and went up to Akihito and gave him a bear hug.

"Ow! Kou, not so hard." Kou let go of Akihito as if he were on fire, then noticed the thin bandages on his arm and shoulder.

"Akihito, what happened to you?" The two friends took a couple of seats at the bar. Akihito set his bag, with the camera inside, up on the bar. Like usual, there was no one else in the bar.

Akihito looked over at his shoulder then back to his friend. "I got hurt, just a tad." He said while crinkling his nose up.

Kou gave his friend a pained look. "Akihito, that's a bullet wound." Just like Akihito, Kou did get around town and has seen some things.

The injured friend made a huffing sound at his friend for knowing the truth right off. "It's nothing, really." He didn't meet Kou's eyes.

The bartender leaned back in his seat. "Okay, well, just chill for a while here, alright? It's good to see you. I'll go get you a drink and some real food to eat." Kou wished that his friend didn't go chasing after dangerous leads, go jumping between rooftops, and getting hurt. But, if Akihito wanted to do it, no one could do anything to stop him. If he could keep his friend here just a for a while longer, he would feel better about his friend's safety.

As Kou made his way around the bar into the kitchen, Akihito put his head down on the clean counter. He has had quite a long morning.

As Akihito started to drift off, a dark shadow from a corner advanced towards him and descended upon him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for sticking with me through my story. It's not the greatest and it is far from being a good piece of writing. I'm sorry that I have been off the grid for a while and haven't updated my story. I also apologize for not answering the last chapter's comments. I enjoy reading each and every one of your nice comments and cherish everyone of you, who are so gracious to give me your thoughts. Also, thank you to everyone who reads my story and to those who leave kudos. Thank you again! Enjoy!

"What have you found out about our little photographer?" Asami was sitting in his expansive office, fully equipped with a mahogany desk, a leather couch, bookshelves with books lining the walls, and a large bay window overlooking the whole city of Tokyo, his domain.

Asami has been looking for the elusive photographer for the past week. Nothing of the kid has come up. He had his men prowling all around Shinjuku City and Tokyo City. The kid seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Asami was getting frustrated and when he gets frustrated...well... it just didn't happen to him. He was a man that had complete control over everything. But, he didn't have any control over this recent development. He could find the needle in the haystack, but he couldn't find the photographer in the city.

Asami was staring at his trusted secretary, Kirishima, who was putting a manila folder down on his desk. "The phone that was retrieved was disconnected long ago. Although, we managed to retrieve a couple calls and voicemails from the phone. It was just a few 911 calls between a boy and a 911 operator. Also, there was a voicemail of a woman singing "You are My Sunshine" and "Ooh Child". We tried to pinpoint the locations that the calls were made and received, but the phone was so old that any data received from the phone is long gone. We did however get the surname of the owner. A Takaba. The problem is, we don't have anything in the system within the age group matching the age of the man we pursued at the opera house. We did find a woman by the name of Minori Takaba." The secretary ended his monologue with opening up the folder and putting the contents in front of Asami. The photo was front and center.

The yakuza took the folder and studied its contents. "Make contact with the woman, Minori Takaba. She may know of this child in the picture."

Kirishima took a hesitant step back from his boss. "The woman we found, Minori Takaba, is deceased. She passed about eleven years ago." The secretary searched his boss's face for any emotion that would show. Like always he had that famous mask of power and danger in place.

Asami's gold eyes landed upon the photo, looking at the child, seemingly calling to the boy to come forth. Then, something hit him. He slowly shook his head at his own negligence at how he didn't see it before. The old lady in the photo was Minori Takaba. The child was her undocumented son. He then picked up the photo to study it further. His eyes narrowed onto the woman's wrist that had a bracelet on it. He zeroed in on this little part of the picture and made out the words "Shinjuku General Hospital".

"Asami-san?" The secretary was watching his boss get lost in the picture.

Asami put the picture back down. "Pull the limousine around. Let's take a ride through the Shinjuku district."

Kirishima gathered his presentation and rode the elevator down the high rise with his boss to the parking garage below. There was a limo already waiting by the elevator door.

Suoh, dressed in a suit and tie with gun holsters, materialized beside the limo door and opened it for his boss. Asami got in that side of the limo while his secretary got in the other side. Suoh got in the passenger seat, as always. The driver started the engine. No words needed to be spoken as the car headed out of the parking garage and onto the streets of Tokyo.

It didn't take long to get over to the Shinjuku district as it was only a couple miles away. Being a little early in the morning, things were just now waking up. Stores were opening on the streets as people were coming out of their apartments to start their day.

For Asami, his day was going on since four o'clock in the morning, since he couldn't get the runaway photographer out of his mind.

The limo lazily meandered through the streets of Shinjuku until Asami got too irritated with just going around in circles and not getting anywhere or seeing anything. He shifted in his seat and picked up the folder and started to look through it.

Kirishima noticed this irritation and signaled the driver. "Go to the edge of town. There is a little bar that is open in the mornings." The driver nodded and proceeded to his new destination.

Asami was looking through the manila folder, at the small evidence that somewhere out there, a boy, with the name, Takaba, lives. He was holding the boy's flip phone in his hand the whole car ride.

The limo pulled over to the little bar that was open.

Asami looked up at his most trusted secretary. Kirishima met his eyes. "This bar is open if you'd like to take a break from the car ride." He gestured to the bar.

"Thank you, Kirishima." Asami exited the limo through the door that was being held open by Suoh.

The suited crime lord entered the little bar alone as his bodyguards kept watch outside. He opened the wooden doors to reveal nobody inside. "Hmm, too early for even the employees to be here."

Asami took a booth in the far corner. From this seat, he had the span of the whole bar reflecting in his gold eyes. He laid out the folder on the mysterious boy to try to find something that he had missed before. Maybe there was something there. 

He sat for a good ten minutes looking at his information before another person entered the bar. The person shut the door with a resounding slam that would have woken up whomever was supposed to be bartending.

Asami looked up from his papers and pictures to see a young, blonde haired kid enter the bar. He looked to young to even be let into a bar. He noticed the blue eyes scanning the place. Those curious eyes nit picking the place apart. He had a little smile on his face as if he was visiting a nice memory in his mind.

The boy was about to lay eyes onto Asami's booth when a bartender came out of the kitchen door. Asami watched the whole show of them hugging, talking, and the bartender going back in the kitchen. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy that was sitting at the bar, though.

The black haired man stared at the back of the kid on the bar stool. He noticed the blonde, mopping hair on his head, the slim waist, and the light wrappings on his shoulder.

As the muscular man exited his booth, he noticed the holed jeans exposing pale, leg skin. As he approached the male at the bar, he took note of the shoulder blades formed by his too tight tank top. As he took the seat next to him, he saw the sleeping face of the boy that has been haunting his dreams for the past week.

 

There was a light snore coming from the tired photographer. Akihito shifted away from something that lightly brushed his shoulder. He was slowly coming out of his nap because he got suspicious of the nonstop nudging of his good shoulder.

The sleepy Akihito cracked his eyes open at whoever was disturbing him. His light blue eyes landed on a very tall, buff, man in a suit, with gold eyes that were staring intently at him. 

The kid, lounging at the bar, thought it was a mirage of some sort and let his eyes droop over his eyeballs once more. He allowed his breath to slow in a smooth inhale and exhale. He relaxed more and started to doze off again.

A wide smile appeared on the watchful man. This kid was just lounging about in a bar, just waiting for someone to come along and take him away. The man contemplated this, even thought about just kidnapping the boy. He had some chloroform in his pocket, ready to go. No one would know. But, he wanted to play with him, just a little bit. "You shouldn't let your guard down so often." He made his presence known with his low, booming voice.

Akihito shot up from his seat and almost fell backward at the familiar voice. He jumped from his seat and started to back up from the man that spoke with a rumbly voice with a hint of growl. The skittish kid put a hand to his chest and started to grow pale at who was standing in front of him.

The man came forward and put his flip phone with the picture in it on the bar. "You dropped your phone." Asami had a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes and awaited the kid's response.

"Asa...Asa...Asami?" Akihito made the mistake of, not only freaking out, but also letting the dangerous man know that he knew him. He totally blew the element of surprise.

Asami, liking his response, prowled slowly over to the kid. Boxing him in between two bar stools and the bar itself. Purposely guiding him away from his string bag. The buff man put a hand on either side of the lean man's body, so he had no chance of escaping him. A small grin grew on the bigger man's face as furrowed eyebrows grew on the smaller man's face. The suited man leaned in closer to get a better look at the kid's beautiful blue eyes, his pink lips, and his blonde hair that messily fell across his forehead. The hair was begging to be tousled.

Akihito was leaning back against the bar in an attempt to get away from the watchful eyes of the black haired man. But, the further he leaned back, the closer his legs and middle got to the man trapping him in. He was truly scared of what the big, muscular man was going to do. Was he going to hurt him? Was he upset? How did he find him? He could practically smell his own fear escaping from his skin. He started to perspire on his forehead and upper lip.

Asami leaned in closer to the boy and started to speak with his low, dominant voice. "You already know my name. That's good. It seemed that you already know who I am, as well. You may even know more about me, then I do about you. That's unacceptable. Takaba Aki." He used the nickname off of the photo that he had of the boy. 

"That's Takaba Akihito to you!" The teen yelled. He didn't like other people using that name. Only his mother called him that. He looked back at Asami who had a wide grin on his face and then shrunk back at the fact of giving him his full name.

The black haired man licked his lips. "Hmm, Takaba...Akihito." He drew out his name to make it more dramatic. Also, he liked how the named rolled off his tongue. It left a sweet taste in his mouth.

The shuddering Akihito got his voice back from the depths of his stomach and tried to speak. "Um, uh, look, I don't want any trouble. The photos, they, um, didn't come out. They're long gone. I didn't do anything, okay?" The scared kid tried to shimmy out of the muscular guy's arms, but Asami didn't allow him.

Asami continued to stare at his captured prize. "You don't know what you have done, Akihito." He lightly sniffed the boy's hair and picked up the scent of sugar glaze with a hint of cigarette smoke. Where has this kid been where there was smoking? He could tell that this kid did not smoke.

Akihito cringed at the man using his name so familiarly, even though this was their first encounter where they are talking. "I haven't done anything!" Akihito shouted. Hoping that he didn't sound like he was going through puberty with his high pitched exclamation.

Asami leaned in even closer, liking how the boy leaned back further, inadvertently putting his crouch closer to his own. "You saved my life back at the opera house. If you were not there, I would most likely be lying dead, drowned in my own pool of blood. You changed the course of history with your little camera. Now, I'm in debt to you." The black haired man waited for the kid to reply. The man was enjoying how the kid was reacting in his presence. How the boy was a bit scared, but also had a little fire in him and fighting back with it.

Akihito's eyeballs were darting all over the place looking for a way out."Fine! Just don't kill me and your debt is paid. Just leave me alone!" He started to climb on the bar in an attempt to get away from the man that was radiating raw, dangerous power.

"It doesn't work like that, Akihito. I would have wanted to kill you in the first place, and that's the last thing I want to do to you." Asami started to reach up at the escaping teen.

Akihito started to spit vinegar. "Get away from me!" The freelancer started to back up and run down the bar that he was standing on. Knocking over glasses and putting scuff marks on Kou's previously spotless bar. He jumped down when the bar ran out of counter and headed for the door.

Asami smirked. He liked the spirit and courageousness that was coming from the kid. It got his blood going, and some other things going as well. He watched the kid go for the door with a knowing look in his eyes. "Go ahead and run out that door, Akihito." Asami said while the boy fled.

"Go to hell!" The blonde spat. 

Akihito stopped short of opening the door. He went with his gut for once. His gut was telling him that this man had someone or something waiting out there for him. He decided this was not the ticket out and spied an open window, above a booth, that was letting in some natural light.

The escaping teen looked back at the man standing idle at the bar. "Try to catch me, you bastard!" With that snide remark, Akihito ran towards the booth and jumped on the cushions of the booth. He then used that momentum in the protesting springs of the booth seat and jumped up through the window. The fleeing boy shimmied his lean body out of the window into a back alley.

"It would be my pleasure." Asami said in a silky voice. He watched the blonde haired kid wiggle his cute little ass through the window and started to salivate. "That kid is full of surprises." The suited man grabbed the forgotten bag and the phone and swiftly exited the bar to inform his men of the fleeing boy.

Akihito was running through the alley, but didn't make it far before he hit a fence. He tried climbing it, but his shoulder protested and didn't allow it. He started to talk to himself again to calm himself down. "Okay, he most likely didn't see where I went. I'll just stay low." As he started to crouch down, he heard the numerous footsteps coming towards him.

Asami's eyes caught the photographer crouching behind a trash can. His eyes didn't let anything escape. "You can't run, Akihito. Or hide for that matter." He added with a light chuckle.

Akihito looked up to see Asami and the two men, that were from the opera house, advance on him. "Just leave me alone, okay?" He was panting from trying to escape.

Asami shook his head slowly, causing a few strands of black hair to fall cleanly across his forehead. "I can't leave you alone, now that I know who you are. Also, I owe you my life. There's a debt I have to pay. A life for a life." Asami and his men kept advancing upon the frightened freelancer.

Akihito climbed on top of the trashcan to try to reach the top of the fence, and eventually, climb over. He tried to talk some sense in this crime lord. "What debt? There's no debt." With this he hopped the fence as a man with glasses reached out for him.

As soon as Akihito hit the other side with a jarring hit through his feet, he took off running. Running strait out into a busy street, dodging a few honking cars, and disappearing into the sidewalk of people.

The three men, left behind the fence, watched the teen run like his backside was on fire. The two subordinates turned to their boss. They noticed that he had a smile across his face as he watched the kid escape. "Keep tabs on the bar and the morning bartender. He seems to be an acquaintance."

Kirishima stepped forward. "How will we find the photographer again, Asami-san?" Asami's smile grew wider. Kirishima caught himself staring because seeing his fearless boss smile was like looking into the eyes of a unicorn. "Asami-sama?" Kirishima  took his glasses off and wiped them. Still not believing his eyes.

"It won't be hard. He left without his phone, yet again, and I must return it to him. The forgetful kid also left his camera bag. He's bound to come out of the woodworks sooner or later for his precious possessions." With that said, the three men headed back to the limo.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh man. That was close." Akihito was hiding out in a convenience store behind one of the aisles. It was a good hiding place because these stores were a dime a dozen. He was safely tucked away beside some canned goods. The young photographer looked around himself and realized he had forgotten his belongings. "Shit! I forget my fucking camera and my phone! Graw! No!" He grabbed a can of beans and started to squeeze it, imaging that he was squeezing that guy's neck. "Why, Akihito? Why do you have to forget everything!" He threw the can down and made a sizable dent in the side.

The amateur photographer forgot his most valued possessions. His life was through the viewfinder of that camera. His memories housed in the flip phone. His thoughts were rising to try to solve his dilemma. Go back? No. That man is most likely gone with his stuff. Go after Asami? Hell no. That would be like a bunny chasing down a tiger.

"Hey, you're going to have to pay for that." A store clerk, that was around the corner of the aisle, witnessed the boy's whole display of anger. He didn't really care why this kid was angry or why he was hiding out in the store. He just cared that the damaged food would get compensated for. He grabbed his broom that he was sweeping with and continued cleaning up.

Akihito came back to his senses and picked up the canned good. "Oh, my apologies." He timidly said to the store worker. He headed to the cashier and bought the dented can of beans. Luckily, he still had the yen from earlier.

The cashier looked at the boy buying the canned beans. "Got all of your aggression out?" The cashier rung up the dented can for the kid. The blonde haired boy nodded and took his unforeseen purchase. "Well, it's better to take out your anger on a can than on the person that you are upset at. It's usually just a misunderstanding."

"Really?" Akihito looked up at the male cashier with a semi confused look. The cashier wasn't aware of what he had just been through. "I'm sorry that you had to see my little outburst." He down casted his eyes to the ground.

"Hey man, it's okay. If you ever need to get your aggression out again, I take care of a little community gym just around the corner." The cashier handed Akihito a card with the gym's address and phone number on it. "Come in sometime if you'd like to throw some punches or just come and check it out. You can find a better opponent than a can of beans." The cashier gave the blonde a smile.

"Thanks, what's your name? So I know who to ask for at the gym." He said while taking the card.

"I'm Takato. Nice to meet you. You are?" He gestured with his hand at the blonde.

"My name is Akihito. Nice to meet you too. Alright, I'll see you around."

"See you later." The two waved goodbye as Akihito headed out the iron barred glass door. He looked down at the card then at his watch that read, 9:48am. "Damn, I can't believe I lost my camera and my phone... again." He rubbed his eyes a few times and walked down the street, now busy with vendors, stores, and hawkers. He was lucky that he didn't leave behind his yen. At least he has a little time to figure out what his next move is. He had enough money to pay for two months of rent. That's the only thing he knew.

Akihito ended up, not going back to his apartment, but to a nice little park, outside the hustle and bustle of his little city, to try to clear his mind. He took up a nice shady tree and laid down. He let the fresh air of the grass and trees fill his city lungs. The air was refreshing and calm to his mind. His little park was an oasis in his life. It was the only place that he could let his mind wonder to a better place, when he was conscious. The joggers and bike riders would pass by him and pay him no mind. The birds would twitter by while the squirrels chattered in the trees overhead.

Akihito grabbed handfuls of the soft grass that he was lounging on. He felt the coolness come up from the ground and seep into his skin. It was so nice in the park. Nobody to bother him, nice chirping sounds of the birds acting as a lullaby, and no vendors were allowed, so there was no essence of the city inside the little park. Sometimes, he wished that he could stay here forever, in his little limbo. But, he knew he couldn't. If you stay in one place to long, out in the open, you get found out and caught.

The boy allowed his mind to slip further into the caresses of the park. He was being lulled to sleep by the sounds, smells, and touches, that he was feeling. His eyes long since closed. His other senses taking over. His mind slipped further and further into the abyss until he was totally out. He was snoring lightly, eyes darting back and forth under his eyelids, his breathing slowed.

The people that passed him by just took him as another person escaping the hard life of the city for a little bit and didn't bother him.

Hours past by. The tree's shadow, the same tree the blonde haired kid was sleeping under, grew long as the sun started to set. The boy didn't have a care in the world at that specific time.

After a while of just laying there, the sleeping teen was awakened by the sound of footsteps approaching him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a rent-a-cop come towards him.  

"Hey kid, the park is about to close. You can go back to sleep, but I'm afraid you can't sleep here." The rent-a-cop was dressed in a white, simple uniform. It was a familiar looking uniform to Akihito because he usually saw these types of guys at the police station.

Akihito slowly got up from his spot and stretched, causing his top to rise up and show off his slim stomach. He cracked his back and wiped off the grass from his jeans and his butt. "Thank you. I didn't realize I had slept so long." He looked at his watch. 8:12pm. "I was sleeping a really long time." He added.

The guard came closer to him, marveling at the little stomach peeking out under the teen's shirt. "If you don't have somewhere to go, you can come over to my place." He gave Akihito a wicked smile with a perverted look in his muddy brown eyes.

Akihito became aware of what the guard was implying. "No, thank you. Goodbye." He turned around and started walking.

"Oh come on." The rent-a-cop grabbed his arm. "Come back to my place." He said in a forceful tone.

Akihito shrugged him off. "No. I have a place to go to. Goodbye." He started walking away, showing the perverted park guard his back.

"Well, since you have a place, maybe I'll just follow you back to it." The guard was right on the blonde's heels.

Akihito whipped around. "Please don't follow me and please leave me alone." He turned back around and started to jog towards the park's exit.

The freelancer heard running footsteps behind him. He turned around just as the park guard tackled him. "Hey! Get off of me!" He yelled.

"You're too good to leave alone." The guard straddled the boy's hips and held his hands above his head. "No one will miss just one little kid." He commended.

The boy flinched as he felt his bad shoulder stretch uncomfortably. He started to kick out to try to get free. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you supposed to be a servant of the people? To be a good guy? Please, stop this!" He kept fighting to get free.

"You of all people should know that there is no good in the world anymore. You're a documenter of the world's scum. I see you all the time come in the police station all cheeky and happy and I just thought to myself 'I'm going to fuck that kid one day and break his little spirit.' and this is the day."

Those harsh words seeped into the blonde and caused a bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat. "Someone is going to see you attacking me!" Akihito shouted.

"Well, my stupid little boy, the park closed at 7 o'clock and everyone has left. Who is here to see me?" With that he stretched the boy's body out more until his shirt rode up a little, exposing smooth stomach skin. He brought his nasty, peach fuzzed mouth down to Akihito's ear. "Who's going to stop me?" The guard's nasty, onion and liver breath wafted over Akihito and made him cough. The guard started to kiss the boy's neck with his prickly lips.

"Please, stop!" Akihito cried, disliking how the guy's unshaven chin scraped at his sensitive neck skin.

"Like I said, who's going to stop me?" The rent-a-cop replied.

"Me." The guard froze as he heard the click of a gun near his head. "You better get off of him."

Akihito looked up at the person who was his savior and a big smile grew on his face.

The guard slowly released the boy. He had a furious look on his face for looking down the barrel of his own gun. He was too blitzed out of his mind to notice that his gun was taken from his holster in his sex filled haze. "Are you okay, Aki-chan?"

Akihito got up and looked at his neighbor wearing a jacket that had 'baby' written on it. "What are you doing here?"

The girl went and stood by Akihito, the gun still trained on the rent-a-cop. "I'm here saving your ass, apparently. And for you," she said as she shook the gun at the guard, "I'll just return this to you at the police station. I bet they'll just love the story I tell them down there. 'The cop who got his gun stolen by a little girl while raping a boy.' That will be hilarious."

"You're case won't go anywhere. I'm apart of the police department. This will never see the light of day. Now, I suggest you give that gun back, little girl." The guard advanced slowly on them.

The girl put up a sturdy stance. "How dumb are you? I not only got your gun, I got your little can of pepper spray. One more step and you're eyes are going to be set on fire. Want to do the honors, Aki-chan?" She said this while handing the spray can to her neighbor.

Akihito accepted the can then turned to the girl. "This is not what I want. We should leave, now." He put out a hand on her wrists that were holding the gun.

The girl looked at Akihito with a confused look on her face. "What? Wasn't this scum of the earth about to rape you? Don't you want some payback?"

"This is not the way." Akihito looked at the rent-a-cop then back at his neighbor. "We, we should leave." He turned to the guard. "Um, we'll give you back the weapons when we exit the park. This needs to go no further." The blonde haired kid started to back up while putting his hands up in a non threatening way.

"Fuck that, I can use this gun for tonight." The girl blurted out.

Akihito, confused at her comment, tried to reason with her. "No! You'll get in trouble!" Akihito turned to the girl.

"Fine, Takaba, get raped! See if I care!" The girl took off running out of the park, gun in hand.

The rent-a-cop followed the girl with his eyes. "Hey! Get back here!" He shouted then took off running after the rambunctious girl.

Akihito was left in the park with the pepper spray still in his hands. His mind was scrambling to try to figure out what just happened. Why did she need a gun? Where is she going tonight? What's happening? Things are getting out of hand. I got to go back to my apartment. It's not safe out here at night. With that in mind, he took off at a jog towards his apartment.

The blonde teen passed by a lady in high heels with a skimpy red dress on. She was working the corner. "Hey baby boy, you want to have some fun tonight?" She bit her bottom lip that was caked in red lipstick.

"No, thank you ma'am. I'm in a hurry." He continued jogging.

"Mmm, I'm no 'ma'am', honey." She yelled after the boy.

The teen continued on through the streets, cutting through some dark passageways. Then, he suddenly stopped. A thought dawned on him. "Shit! She's going to The Hour House!" He took off at a sprint towards his apartment. His legs were growing numb from all of the running. His breath burned in his lungs by the time he got back to the apartment. He jumped through the door and ran up the stairs. He nearly crashed through his apartment door as he was opening it. He ran to his drawers and pulled out a sock. He put all of his yen in the sock then put it back in the bottom drawer. He then grabbed his black hoodie, pulled it on himself, then grabbed a little flashlight that was reserved for emergencies. This was an emergency.

Akihito started coughing from all of the running he had done. "Damn it!" He yelled, making his throat even more dry. He ran over to his sink and put his mouth right under the faucet and took a few big glugs.  He exited his apartment in a haste, ignoring the landlady on his way out.

"Today is 'pay rent day'. Where's my money?" The landlady put up a metal spoon as if it was the sword of Excalibur.

Akihito whirled around. "I'm sorry, I have to run!" He dodged the spoon that was thrown at him as he exited the door.

Akihito sprinted like his life depended on it. He wasn't thinking about his own life. He was thinking about the life of the girl, too young to know what she is getting herself into. 

The young freelancer dodged cars, cut through back alleys, and ran miles until he arrived onto the wharf.

The wharf was basically a gigantic concrete slab, the size of a baseball field, beside a little manmade canal. There were a few desolate buildings that surround a large, supposed to be abandoned, warehouse.

The warehouse used to be a fishery plant. Used by the people on the canal to package and store fish. But, it has long since been vacated because of the bad rep the canal was getting for being polluted. Nobody wanted to eat a fish with three eyes.

Tonight, the warehouse was surrounded by black limousines and dark sports cars. If one didn't look close enough, they would have just taken the darkly colored cars as just part of the pavement.

Akihito stood behind the chain link fence that surrounded the whole area. He saw that the warehouse looked abandoned on the outside, but he knew on the inside, it was chaos. People coming in from the docks bringing in their live shipment. Rich people inside making bids on the shipment of products. The freelancer shook his head. Absolutely disgusting. 

The sneaking freelancer peered through the fence and spotted two burly men guarding a little door. He noticed a man with a body guard enter through the door. "Again, not through front door." He was looking around himself and spotted a manhole. "Hmm, I wonder where that goes."

Akihito pulled on the grate with all of his might, ignoring the tug in his shoulder, until it slid out of place. It turned out, that the manhole didn't lead to sewers. But, it was an old passage that led to the warehouse. It was dusty and full of cobwebs. It appeared to have not been used for a long time. "Wow, these black marketers are serious." He had no second thoughts of just jumping down that hole and making his way towards The Hour House.


	9. Chapter 9

"Asami-sama, we are ready." Kirishima, wearing a black, pressed suit, stood before his boss.

"Bring the limo around." Asami sat in his office at his mahogany desk with a glass of dark liquor in his hands. He had a file open on his desk with documents that had information about The Hour House. There was also newspaper clippings in the file that described allegations of powerful people trafficking women and girls. He turned the paper around to Suoh, who was the head of his security. "They are bringing too much attention to themselves. If we don't put a stop to this tonight," He said while tapping the papers, "people will start pointing fingers, the public will start to question, important people will start to disappear."

"What about the photographer, Asami-sama?" Suoh asked.

Asami looked away from his head of security and at the camera and phone on the corner of his desk. His thoughts going from the photographer back to the situation at hand. "Back burner for now, Suoh."

"We are ready, Asami-sama." Suoh repeated Kirishima's words.

The powerful group of three took the familiar elevator ride to the limo, that was waiting in the reserved part of the parking garage. All three got in the awaiting car. The driver didn't take his eyes off the road as he addressed his boss. "Where would you like to go, Asami-sama?"

"To The Hour House." Asami answered. 

Asami's personal driver never knew the destination until Asami, himself, said where they were going. Cuts down on the harm because if an enemy got a hold of the driver, they wouldn't know what the next move would be. Asami could not be tracked and plotted against.

The ride over to The Hour House was a quiet one. Asami occupied himself by looking at the photographer's picture and at his personal file that was made. Kirishima busied himself with tonight's plan of taking down The Hour House. Flush out everyone with tear gas, then take the whole building down with plastic explosives. Suoh, in the passenger seat, was cleaning his 9mm gun with a silencer on the end.

"We have arrived, Asami-sama." The driver brought everyone out of their activities.

They were parked among other limos. Suoh and Kirishima exited the car first. The partners walked up to a couple of black SUVs that were already there. After talking with the men who have exited the vehicles, Kirishima returned to the limo and opened the door for Asami. "The men are ready, Asami-sama."

Asami exited the car just like a dragon would exit its cave. With power, determination, and fearlessness. His gold eyes glowed in the night like a panther's would. He glided over to his men standing poised. Each had a black suit on with guns and holsters. A couple of them were carrying canisters. The black haired man scanned all of his men with his eyes and waited for them to nod. They all nodded simultaneously as his eyes raked over each and every one of them. Making sure each of them knew what was going to happen and each of them knew what their job was.

Asami had a plan and if one person didn't abide by it, his whole house of cards would topple. He analyzed each man and reanalyzed his plan in his head. Asami nodded back to his men.

Suoh came forward and took the lead in front of Asami. Asami was flanked by his men. Kirishima was right by his side.

The yakuza leaned over to his secretary. "If you see anything out of the ordinary, inform me at once."

Kirishima nodded, not really knowing why his boss said that.

The whole group of powerful men strode towards the two muscular guards on either side of the front door. As the group of suited men descended, one of the door guards stepped forward. "Excuse me sir," He addressed Asami who was standing in the middle of the group, "you are only allowed one person to accompany you to the auction." The guard saw that no one was moving and tried to reason with them. "We try to keep this auction civilized, gentlemen."

Asami stepped up next to Suoh. "I understand." With those two words and a curt nod, two of Asami's men came forward and knocked the guards out with the butt of their guns. They were quickly pushed away from the door. "However, this auction is far from civilized." He said to the unconscious men.

Suoh opened the door for his boss. Asami entered the modified warehouse like he owned it. His men silently spanned out all over the warehouse, not disturbing any of the bidders, and took up their positions. Two men stood guard near the door. The men with the canisters of tear gas were strategically place around the warehouse. Kirishima and Suoh stood on either side of Asami, who was near the stage. The auctioning has already begun with an unfortunately girl dressed in a too tight dress on a stage in the middle of the warehouse.

The warehouse was redone into a place where auctions could efficiently take place. In the middle of the warehouse was a stage that had LED lights positioned around it. Surrounding the stage were the hidden faces of every dirty politician, crooked cop, heartless pimp, and brutal businessman that wanted to watch the show of young women and girls be paraded around and eventually bought. The lights made everyone, who was watching the procession, invisible because they were cast into the shadows.

Each person that wanted to bid had their own little wireless button that would put a bid on the woman being auctioned. Everything was done anonymously. But, of lately, more and more people have wanted in on the auction. More popularity in the auction, leads to more trafficking, leads to more illegal dealing, which leads to more attention being drawn. There was a domino affect being put into place, until the last domino falls, will it all end.

    


	10. Chapter 10

Akihito made it to the end of his tunnel with minimal scrapes on his arms and spider webs in his hair. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that he seemed to have hit a dead end. Through all of the crouching through the crevices and the stumbling in the tunnel, he hit a wall that seemed to be immovable.

The freelancer put his hands on the wall and pushed. The wall didn't give at all. The kid was starting to sweat at this point and just rested his head on the wall, wishing it to give way.

After a few minutes of thinking of his next move, Akihito felt his head dip into the wall, which was peculiar. He got out his flashlight and looked at where he rested his forehead. That part of the wall started to give way. He scratched at it and found out that it was dry wall. With renewed strength, he took a few steps back and barreled forward with his shoulder. He hit the wall with a little shout and came toppling through to the other side.

"Ow, ow, ow! Dang it! I should have joined that gym before I start trying to take down walls." A cloud of dust rose around Akihito as he stood up and dusted himself off.

Akihito looked around and made it into what looked like a medieval dungeon. There was a nasty, musty smell coming from the area. This smell didn't appeal to the photographer's senses because they were born out of brutality, sorrow, and desperation. 

There were cells on either side of one aisle. He noticed with a start that the cells had abandoned woman's clothes in them. Specifically, pants, shirts, and shoes. The clothes were deteriorating and turning into moth nests. It's almost as if the women were led down here, were forced to disrobe, then taken some place else.

The young photographer shuddered at the situation he found himself in. It hurt him even more to personally know what these mean people put the woman through. 

The good news was, that this place seemed to be abandoned. It was almost pitch black down in the dungeon. Had it not been for the little flashlight Akihito brought, he would have been in total darkness. He swung his flashlight around himself to look in all of the cells. He stepped on something and got it caught in the ridges of his tennis shoe and was scraping across the concrete floor as he walked. He leaned up against a cell bar wall to try to see what it was.

The freelancer lowered his little flashlight to the bottom of his shoe. "Oh my God." He said to himself. His flashlight lit up a yellow tooth that was lodged into the ridge of his shoe. He waved his flashlight over the ground that he was previously ignoring because he was looking into the cells. The floor was littered with white and yellow rocks. On closer inspection, he noticed that they were all teeth.

Wide eyed and breathing hard, Akihito quickly flicked the tooth from his shoe. It hit an iron bar on a cell with a ping. "I have to get out of here." He headed for the stairs he spotted that were located down the aisle of cells. He tiptoed to the stairs trying his best not to step on any teeth. Each grating sound of a tooth shattered his heart. The scraping of the teeth were the cries of the women and girls that were down here. He tried his best to ignore the little red splotches on the gray concrete.

Akihito's eyes grew watery as he imagined what these people went through. Being forcibly disrobed, if they disobeyed, they would get their teeth knocked out. He hit the stairs and ran up them, not looking back at the scene he had to trudge through. Not looking back at the past he had to witness second hand.

The teen reached the top of the stairs and hit the ceiling. He pushed on the ceiling to try to find out if it was a trap door. With a gigantic creaking sound, the door opened and smashed onto the floor.

Akihito winced at such a loud sound as light flooded down into the abandoned dungeon. He hauled himself out and looked around. The first thing he laid eyes on were a mass of people behind what looked like a large white sheet. He noticed that whenever the sheet opened, a man would let a woman out, then the sheet would close again. He saw men surrounding the large group of women, herding them towards the sheet.

The blonde haired kid now knew what they were doing. They were parading the women onto some sort of stage on the other side of the curtain. He also noticed the shadow of the woman being bided on through the sheet. On the other side of the curtain were most likely the bidders.

Akihito shuddered. He stayed back in the shadows beside the wall of the warehouse and tried to look for his neighbor. The shadow made by a pillar in the warehouse wall hid him perfectly. He had a full view of everyone that was going out the white curtain.

"Next item up for sale," Akihito listened to the auctioneer, who's voice was coming from all directions. "This young thing was caught outside, just today. She has some spunk in her. When the guards found her, she was wielding a gun and threatening them. They subdued her in no time. Her jacket says everything about her. She's a baby."

Akihito perked up to that last statement and started to walk towards the women and guards behind the white sheet. He got to an angle where he could see through the slit in the curtain and spotted his friend, obviously woozy and drugged, being bided on.

"I'll start off the bid at 5,000,000 yen."

"Thank you, 6,000,000?"

"Thank you, 7,000,000?"

"Thank you, 8,000,000?"

The hidden photographer leaned forward to try to figure out how the people were bidding. Nobody was saying anything and the only source of light he noticed was coming from a stage that the girls were put on.

"Thank you, 10,000,000 yen?" The auctioneer paused for about ten seconds.

"Going once, going twice, sold to guest 107. You may pick up your purchase at the end of the auction."

"No! Let me go!" His neighbor's high pitched voice met Akihito's ears.

At this point, Akihito was raging mad at these people. His ears burned and his heart raced as he ran out of his hiding spot towards the sheet. Intent on getting his friend out of here.

"Hey! Stop that kid!" One of the guards that were herding the women through spotted Akihito running through the group of women towards the curtain.

The auctioneer's voice rang through the speakers. "Well, gentlemen, it seems we are going to have a show for you tonight."

Akihito dodged a few outreaching hands as he sprinted across the catwalk leading to the stage where his friend was.

The girl landed a foot to the man's crotch and got away from him and started to clumsily run to Akihito. "Aki-chan! Help me! Please!" She reached out her hands that were bound with rope.

At this point, the whole warehouse was in an uproar. Guards were climbing on stage to try to diffuse the situation. The crowd was whistling and hooting.

"Nice ass, kid. Are we bidding on you next?" A gold toothed man yelled from the crowd.

"You'll make a fine addition to my club." Another one said.

The girl on stage had wrapped her bound hands around Akihito's neck as he hoisted her up and carried her on his back. "We have to get out of here, Aki-chan!" She cried in his ear. 

"This way!" Akihito yelled as he dodged a guard that tried to tackle him. He twisted his head around to talk to his friend. "Don't worry, we're going to-" Before he could finish his sentence a guard had jumped in front of him and punched him square in the chest. It knocked the wind out of him as he fell to the ground with the girl screaming on his back.

The girl was ripped from his back and dragged away. Akihito's eyes became blurry from the impact he made with the ground. He swiftly pushed himself up and put up his fists. In his adrenaline induced state, he didn't even notice that his shoulder wound had opened up again from the fall. He also didn't notice that on his way down, he had twisted his ankle.

The guard landed another blow, this time to Akihito's head. Effectively making him see stars and hear a high ringing in his ears.

As the freelancer was getting his vision back, smoke was quickly filling the air. A big overhead light was turned on that lit up the whole room. Everyone stood silent as the smoke hissed and filled the room. They couldn't believe that someone threw the main warehouse light. Then, they all scattered like roaches trying to get away from the light and the tear gas that was quickly filling the room.

Akihito was still having it out with the guard on the catwalk. He landed a good right hook to the guard's face as the guard kicked him down with a sideways kick to his side. He then brought out the can of pepper spray he stored away in his jacket. He couldn't figure out the safe screw top on the pepper spray and it was quickly kicked away by the guard.

"You better stay down pretty boy." The guard sneered.

"Fuck you!" As Akihito got up, the guard pulled out a gun and pointed it right at his forehead.

"You're too rowdy to be a good fuck toy. Better to put you down before-." A red blotch formed at the the front of the guard's forehead. Blood started to run free from the blotch, down his face, and soaked into his shirt. The gun dropped from his limp hand as he fell over. A hole ran from the man's forehead all the way to the back of his head. His brain was melting on the floor when it should have been in his head.

"Whoa!" The blonde teen tried to jump out from the leaning tower of muscly fat, but the guard fell too hard too fast and knocked him off the stage.

The photographer fell to the ground, head first. A ringing, white sound took over his ears as tears filled his eyes over the hit to the floor. He noticed that the tear gas already filled most of the room and was almost on him. He pulled his hoodie over his mouth and hauled himself up. He limped away from the billowing gas that was slowly taking over the room.

A few gunshots rang out in the air as most of the other people were evacuating the warehouse. There was just a few men in suits running around touching certain points of the building, which was peculiar to the freelancer. Soon, those men made their way out of the building as well.

Akihito was left alone, hobbling from his sprain, bleeding from his open wound, and coughing from the tear gas filling his lungs. He tripped over his feet and landed on the cold concrete floor. He sat there on the ground watching his entire world turn to black. As his eyes closed, he saw a dark figure move towards him. He started to whimper and pull into himself so he would not be bothered in his collapsing world.

The dark figure descended over the blonde kid. The photographer started to panic. "Please! Leave me alone!" The dark figure didn't leave him alone. Instead, the dark figure extended his arms around the boy and gently picked him up. He whimpered in the stranger's arms as he was taken away from the smoke and the impending darkness. The young freelancer pleaded once more in a feeble voice. "Please, leave me alone."

The dark figure replied in a silky, baritone voice. "I can't leave you alone. I'm in debt to you."


	11. Chapter 11

Asami picked up the blonde with the most of care. He took note of his shoulder wound, he knew which ankle was sprained, and he saw him hit his head.

It was very brave of the kid to come into a place like this, ready to save one of his friends. Or, that's what he assumed he was trying to do. But, it was very dangerous for him to come as well. He didn't know that this place was so heavily guarded, he just knew what he was doing, and that was saving his friend.

Asami looked over at the stage that had an unmoving body, surrounded by blood, on it. The body was wearing a jacket that had the word "baby" written on it.

The suited man cradled the blonde in his arms as he exited the building. He was the last one to exit before the plastic explosives, strategically placed throughout the already decaying warehouse, went off, and made the building safely collapse in on itself.

Kirishima and Suoh took up Asami's flank immediately after he exited the building. The photographer still whimpering in his arms.

Akihito didn't know how badly he hurt himself. When he was in one of his adrenaline induced episodes, he didn't know how bad he got into trouble. That's how he got himself out of situations. When everything bad has happened to him, when he is hurting most, that's when he got to work. He was able to pull himself out of the depths of Hell when he was most hurt and had almost no hope.

Akihito always had hope, he always had good thoughts on his mind, and he always knew that no matter how bad things got, there was always someone else out there that was in a worse situation then him. He never asked for anything, never wanted anything, never really needed much to get by. He just wanted to do what he loved, and that was follow good leads that everyone else was scared to expose. Also, to help the ones who needed his help.

The photographer could feel himself being carried. The swaying motion was gently rocking him to sleep. He didn't like that. He hated being carried, to him, it meant that he was too weak to live, and he was not too weak to live. He could get himself out of danger.

"Please, let me go." He said in a wavering voice to whoever was carrying him.

Asami could hear the young freelancer whimper and plead with him to let him go. He wasn't about to let this boy go. He had put his life on the line for someone else. The suited man has rarely seen that in his line. In his business, if someone risked their life for someone else, they usually didn't last long. For some reason, he felt like he needed to protect this blonde haired kid.

The yakuza carefully slid a softly whimpering, shivering Akihito into the back seat of his limo.

Kirishima was already waiting inside the limo and quickly applied pressure to his bleeding shoulder through the kid's hoodie. He also applied a cool compress to the boy's head while Asami made quick work of wrapping up his bad ankle, right over his jeans, with linen bandages. The blonde had other various cuts and bruises, but those could be taken care of at his penthouse.

Asami switched positions with Kirishima so he was now at the head of the photographer. He carefully slid the hoodie off of the injured blonde, which caused him to cry out in pain. He set to work on bandaging his shoulder. After a few minutes of work, his shoulder was snuggly bandaged and the cool cloth on his forehead was bringing his ghost white face to a pinker color.

The limo was already moving towards the penthouse. The streetlamps were passing by the car lighting up the face of the freelancer every so often. Suoh was in the passenger seat calling up Asami's personal doctor to meet at the penthouse.

Asami watched the face of the blonde kid scrunch up in pain every time his secretary worked on correcting his ankle or putting some iodine on his cuts to prevent infections. "Ahh! Stop! Please! Stop touching me!" The photographer cried.

The kid started to kick out his good leg and raised his good arm and formed a fist. He tried to sit up, but Asami put a firm hand on his forehead and tried to soothe the fidgeting blonde. "Relax, you're going to hurt yourself even more." He said in a deep voice.

Akihito wasn't falling for the deep, soothing voice. "No! You're hurting me! Let me go!" He started to cough up dry air as Asami was reaching for a vial of clear liquid and a syringe.

Asami knew the kid was going into shock from the blood loss. The blonde needed to calm down or he was likely to bleed out before they get to the penthouse and get a hold of his doctor. He took the syringe and retrieved some liquid out of the vial.

Akihito saw this whole display through tear rimmed eyes. He grabbed the man's wrist with the full syringe in it. "Please, don't." His breath got caught in his throat as he hypothesized about what was in that syringe. "Don't." He repeated with fear in his beautiful blue eyes.

The man's gold eyes softened as the kid continued pleading with him. He didn't want Akihito to be in pain. The boy didn't know that he had nothing to worry about. The solution was just a general anesthesia to encourage him into a painless sleep.

The black haired man peeled the kid's hand off of his wrist and extended it. Akihito noticed what the man was about to do and tried to snatch his hand back. "Let me go!" He cried.

"Shh, it will only sting for a second." The man brought the needle down to a blue vein that was protruding from the freelancer's arm.

"No! Don't!" Asami brought the needle to his vein and pressed the syringe. "Stop it!" He could feel the pinch and the quick burn that lasted a second when the strange substance entered his system. Asami let Akihito snatch his good arm back after he was able to get the whole syringe in his system. 

At first, Akihito was taking in shallow, labored breaths. Now, when the liquid got worked throughout his body, he took a long deep breath before he rested his head on the cool leather of the seat. The pain that was ripping through his body dwindled to a dull numbing sensation in the background of his mind. He wasn't worried about where he was anymore, he was just letting this new drowsy sensation take over his body. "Wha, what," his words were slurring as he fell asleep, "What was that?" He was fading fast.

Asami leaned over this fiery blonde haired photographer and put a large warm hand on his chest. The compression on his chest caused him to close his eyes. "Don't worry. Just breathe deeply, Akihito." The boy was out before Asami finished his sentence. "Kirishima, the shoulder." The secretary quickly took his place next to his boss and worked on securing the shoulder bandages.

The teen was bleeding all over the leather seat and on the floor of his limo. Asami didn't care. He could just as easily get another limo.

The limo arrived at the penthouse in less than ten minutes and entered into the parking garage at the base of the expensive apartment building. It drove right up to the private elevator that, with the right pass code and key, rode right up to the yakuza's suite. 

Asami carefully lifted the unconscious boy out of his limo. Since he wasn't awake and freaking out, he wasn't losing blood as fast. He took the diamond in the rough into the elevator and rode it up with Kirishima and Suoh.

Asami's personal doctor was already waiting at the door. "Asami-san, I set up the guest room."

The crime lord took his injured boy into the guest bedroom and laid him on the king sized bed, not caring that the blood soaked through the linen and is soaking into the 2000 count silk sheets.

The doctor came into the room with the IV pole and some monitoring equipment. He set it up next to his patient who was fidgeting in his sleep. He hooked up the IV line to the boy's thin vein in his arm. He hung the bag that contained nutrients onto the pole. He placed a holter monitor on his bare chest to take measurements of cardiac rates, arterial pressure, and brain activity. Soft beeping sounds coming from the equipment filled the room. He also fitted the patient with an oxygen line so fresh clean air could continuously circulate through his system. The doctor took out a few rolls of linen bandages from his black bag and set to work on redoing the bandages on his shoulder. He smirked to himself with the thought of Asami trying to bandage an opened gun wound in a moving car. He then set to work on wrapping and bracing up his sprained ankle, which caused a soft cry to arise from his patient and a snarl to come from his overseer. He cut off his torn jeans leaving the teen in only his boxers, to make it easier for him to bandage the ankle.

Asami was pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed while his doctor worked on Akihito. The doctor looked over at Asami. "You are not usually like this, Asami-san." Referring to his odd behavior.

The suited man looked at the doctor with eyes that could cut glass. "Just finish up quickly, please."

"Don't worry, Asami-san. I've been taking care of your ailments ever since you were just a twinkle in your father's eye. He'll live."  He read the results on the monitors and seemed pleased. He then removed the monitoring equipment from the small teen. He injected a serum into the boy to ease the pain. The doctor finished up the treatment on his patient and was wiping his hands on a clean towel.

"I know. You took care of my father and myself." Asami said in a tone that was sincere yet agitated. "Are you finished?"

The doctor retrieved his bag and was walking out the door. "Yes. You can take out the IV and oxygen line tomorrow morning. He should be awake by then and be able to drink some fluids. Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids and if he is able to eat soft foods, let him have as much as he likes. He is underweight for his age and height. I suggest keeping him bed bound for a couple of days to allow his ankle and arm to heal properly."

"Thank you." The doctor nodded and exited Asami's penthouse. Asami immediately called his secretary up on his cellphone. Kirishima picked up the phone on the second ring. "Bring up new sheets and the boy's phone and camera."

"Yes, Asami-sama." Not two minutes later, Kirishima knocked on the guest room's door. "Here are the new sheets and Akihito's possessions, Asami-sama."

Asami led his secretary over to the bed where Akihito was sleeping soundly. He gingerly picked the boy up, making sure not to tangle the IV line, and allowed Kirishima to change the sheets. The secretary then put the photographer's camera and phone on the nightstand.

Asami returned the blue eyed photographer back to his place in his king sized bed. "Thank you, Kirishima."

His faithful secretary bowed as he exited Asami's penthouse.

The golden eyed man was finally left alone with the boy, who was laying prone on the bed. He took a seat next to him and started to stroke the fluffy blonde hair, slightly grimy, on the boy's head, happy that his bump on the head was receding and not bleeding. His hand then trailed down to the blonde's lips, particularly the bottom one, and pulled it down lightly, exposing a few white teeth. His hand slid further down the boy's body over his bare chest. His hand went across his stomach and arrived just above his boxers. His fingers softly wafted over his boxers and down his lean legs. He then returned his hand to Akihito's head and started to soothingly brush his fingers through the blonde hair once more.

Asami watched the freelancer for quite some time. The light blonde hair, the small stomach, the lean stature, and the bare chest. He couldn't believe that someone like this kid existed. On the records, he didn't exist. Maybe his record was erased. Maybe someone had something over his head. Blackmail, bribery, debts, something. Almost no one put their life in danger for someone else. Maybe the girl he was trying to save had loads of money, or she was black mailing him. He would find out when he woke up. The yakuza continued to stare at the face of the boy, waiting for those baby blue eyes to open again.

The only sign of life coming from Akihito was the swift movements of his eyes under his eyelids, the light rise and fall from his chest, and the occasional twitch of his hand. Asami took the twitching hand in his own and squeezed it. He rubbed Akihito's hand and waited for him to awake.


	12. Chapter 12

There was a hideous whining sound in his head. He didn't know if he was crying or if someone was out there crying for him. His head hurt so much. Too much. Too much blood going to his already throbbing head. He tried to raise a hand to his pain filled head, but he couldn't find his hand.

The furthest his mind reached was his shoulder. His hurt shoulder. It burned and ached so bad. It felt like someone was tearing at his shoulder. Forcing his flesh to mend faster than it should be mending. His shoulder was searing with pain. His mind was trying to make sense of what was happening to his shoulder. Was somebody messing with his shoulder? He couldn't really tell. His mind faded to another thought.

His mind tried to reach past the pain of his shoulder to his feet. Maybe he could wiggle his toes. Why couldn't he wiggle even one toe? Maybe because he couldn't get past the pain in his sprained ankle. It felt like someone was breaking his ankle then straitening it, then breaking it again.

He tried to use his voice to tell whoever or whatever was touching him to stop. Unfortunately, he could hear no other sound other than the whining in his head. The whining turned into crying and the crying turned into screaming. He was trapped in his screaming mind. He couldn't move. Something in his body was preventing all movements. Being trapped was his worst fear. Not being able to be free was making the screaming louder. He couldn't take it. Something was going to give.

As he was about to loose his mind to all of the pain and screams radiating from his body from inside his mind and multiplying in his brain, something made his head cease throbbing, his shoulder pain to dwindle and his ankle to stop hurting. The screaming in his mind quieted.

He could feel a warm, soft essence run the length of his whole body. He didn't know what it was. All he knew was that he liked it. The essence was calming, inviting, soothing. He felt the essence rest on the hand that he was trying to reach from before. He could feel his hand now. It was enclosed in something. It was warm and strong. He was not quite sure what. But, inside, he knew that he was safe. It was a new feeling for him. It's been a long time since he's felt safe. He was always on the run, trying to get away from something or another. Now, all he wanted to do was stay here in this calming state. He let the warmth and the sweetness of submission wash over him.

He stayed here for quite some time. The concept of time didn't exist. The sad part was, he knew he couldn't stay here forever. Something was pulling his mind out of his oblivion.

The whining sound was back. This time, it was of a girl's. The girl started calling to him for help. There was another voice added to the girl's. It was of a woman. She had a sweet voice and was calling him, 'my dearest Aki'. That was his name. Aki. No. Akihito. Takaba Akihito. He forgotten who he was. He had forgotten what he was doing. Now he was remembering. He was trying to save his friend. He didn't. Why couldn't he?

He got hurt. He got hurt real bad. Was he in a coma? No, he was forced to go to sleep. By who? Who would stop him from saving his friend? It was the golden eyed man with black hair. Asami! He remembered exactly what happened to him.

Now, the safe feeling was gone. Replaced by a feeling of weakness and fear. He couldn't stand this feeling. He didn't know what happened to him after he was put to sleep. He had to get out of this fog blocking his mind.

As the whining droned on, he tried to reach for the extremities of his body once more. He powered past his hurt shoulder and reached his fingers. He felt his fingers extend and contract. His mind was reentering his body. He reached past his entire aching body to reach his toes. He felt the blood rush to his toes, causing them to tingle. He took in deeper breaths, feeling his chest inflate then deflate. He tried to open his mouth, but it was too dry to do anything. He tried to smell, but all he could smell was odorless air. His hearing was gone, victim to the incessant whining. He tried his last and final sense to reach the outside world. Sight.

He could feel his eyeballs going back and forth in his head. His eyelids were heavy curtains across his eyes denying him access to the world. He made a fist with the hand he could feel and tried again. He took another inhale of the odorless air and tried with all his might to open those iron curtains of eyelids. One eyelid opened, then another. At first, he could only open them into slits. The light was too intense to open his eyes all at once.

He could feel his head rock back and forth trying to get free from whatever was on his face. He took in another breath and opened his eyes all the way.

The whining died out to a dull hum in the background. He looked over at his uninjured arm and reached with that arm to his face and felt a small tube run the curves of his face and into his nose. He felt a pinch in his arm as he was raising it and noticed an IV line taped to his arm. He looked down his body that was covered in bruises, scrapes, and band aids, and saw his braced ankle elevated on a pillow. He looked up and saw the canopy of the four poster bed he was laying in.  He then scanned the expansive room he was in.

The room was very large with what seemed to be a bathroom door off to his right, a double door closet to his left, a leather chair and footrest by the window, and the door that most likely led to the outside on the other side of the room.

Akihito stopped his surveying and glared at the door. Daring it to open for him and let him out. The door was mocking him. Being right there within sight, but unable to break his restraints and run free.

"Thinking of escaping again, Akihito?" Akihito flinched at the deep voice and turned to the source to see Asami, who had put him to sleep, sitting in a chair right next to the bed.

Golden eyes caught baby blue eyes. The black haired man leaned in close to the boy. Causing the bed to dip under his weight as he leaned on it. "It would be much harder for you to escape this time, Akihito."

The blonde haired freelancer laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. A smile spanned his face, showing off all of his strait, white teeth. "I've already escaped you twice. One more couldn't hurt. Could it, Asami?" He said. Mocking the more powerful man. Not a good idea for the young photographer to do. He opened his eyes and looked at the door instead of the man staring at him.

Asami leaned in further and grasped the boy's chin in one of his muscular hands. Drawing Akihito's attention back to himself. He stared into those blue eyes that showed him all the sorrow the boy had gone through. The hate, the cruelness, the damnation, and the fear. But, he saw something else. He saw hope and love surrounding these bad emotions and feelings. He was not use to seeing this.

Akihito got annoyed at this prolonged gesture and swatted his hand away with his good arm, causing the IV line to jump. "What the hell are you doing?" The blonde spat. The man ignored him, grabbed his chin again, and continued to stare, getting lost in those eyes. A frown formed on the freelancer's face. "Look Asami, I don't appreciate you kidnapping me and all. I got to go and help my friend." He shook his head out of the man's hand and started to grab at the sheets to pull them off.

Asami grabbed Akihito's hand and held it still. "The girl?" He said with a quizzical uplifting of one eyebrow.

"Yes, my friend. I was there to get her away from that place. I was-"

"There's no helping her." Asami cut him off. "She was a casualty." He was very blunt and wanted to get to the point quickly so he can move on to talking about Akihito himself. He watched Akihito slouch in the bed and stare at something that was not there. 

The news hit Akihito like a ton of bricks to the head. Dead? How can she be dead? He let one tear escape and drop down to leave a splotch on the sheets. He entered The Hour House with the intent to save her. He could of if he had just gotten there earlier. Maybe stopped her in the park. Convince her to not... His sadness soon turned into rage. He glared at the golden eyed man, seeing him as the only thing to lash out at. He started to kick and punch the air. "You asshole! Why did you come after me?! She was a little girl! I can't believe you! You, you, son of a bitch!" He yelled.

As the last word was said by those lips, Asami swiftly climbed on top of the photographer, pinning his flailing good arm above his head with one large hand and pinning his kicking legs with his thick thighs. The boy didn't seem to know how badly he was injured. It was like his adrenaline ran on overtime all the time.

Akihito's breath was labored, his nostrils were flared, and he started to sweat. Asami knew that he needed to calm down. Maybe another dose of the general anesthesia would suffice. Well, Asami had a better idea.

Asami lowered his chiseled face to the boy's smooth face. Only millimeters away from those lips, he spoke in his baritone voice, effectively silencing the injured patient. "I advice you not to start acting out. It makes me want to subdue you and take you for my own. In your state, you wouldn't be able to handle it." With this said, he captured Akihito's lips with his own.

Akihito's eyes almost burst out of their eye sockets as the man was kissing him. Those were strong, domineering lips on his soft, malleable lips. He started to whine and shake as he felt a tongue drag across his lips then begin to probe said lips, wanting to gain entry. His tongue dipped lightly in his mouth and back out. He tried to shake the man off of him but it was like lifting a boulder off of yourself. He looked at the man above him in utter confusion. 'What the hell is he doing?' He thought. 'Kissing you, numb nuts.' His thought replied.

The teen was in shock at the man above him. He has never been kissed like this before, and this was a full blown kiss! He furrowed his eyebrows at the fact that he got to first base with a guy. He'd always thought he would find a nice girl to do this with. Not the opposite.

Akihito arched his back to try to push Asami off of him, but that only gave the man making love to his mouth more access to his body.

Asami put his other arm under the blonde's lower back as soon as he started to arch his back. This move caused the boy to writhe and shake even more. He made careful note to not disrupt his sprained ankle resting on the pillow or his arm that was laying limp, useless beside his body. He also made sure that the IV line didn't let loose and the oxygen tube was still firmly in his nose.

The kiss was long and dragged on. When Akihito tried to open his mouth to protest, Asami slipped his tongue into his mouth in a smooth motion, feeling around and pushing on the teen's tongue.

Asami explored the boy's mouth thoroughly. He tasted his mouth. He could feel the boy's breath hitch in his throat. He knew that Akihito was trying to take in air. Good thing that oxygen line supplied him with enough air even if Akihito didn't know it.

Akihito's mind and lungs were going haywire. He wasn't thinking about calming down at all. He was thinking about getting this handsome, muscular, hunk of a man... The freelancer snapped his head around to try to clear his thoughts that were being aroused by Asami. Was he really getting off by this man attacking his face and, hey, why is that hand going down lower?

Asami was grabbing the plump ass of the photographer. Groping him and feeling him up. He couldn't resist. After about two minutes of strait tonging Akihito's mouth and squeezing up his ass, Asami granted him a reprieve and ended the kiss with a light bite to his lower lip. He slowly lowered the photographer's cute behind back down on the bed and looked upon the glazed eyes of Takaba Akihito while still straddling him.

Akihito lay there on the bed, limp, exhausted, and confused. 'Why did he just kiss me?' He thought. 'I'm a guy.' He tried to say these things to the man pinning him down but only got out a little squeak and a light cough. The oxygen flowed freely throughout his body, giving him sort of a lightheaded feeling from all of the oxygen going to his brain. He laid his head back down on the plush pillows and closed his eyes. 'Okay, I'll deal with him later.' He thought. The photographer past out soon after.

Asami watched the blonde haired teen lay there, prone, with swollen lips. He smirked to himself to know that this kid is very sensitive. If he goes down this road, it will be fun to introduce him to a lot of new things that come with growing up. He assumes that Akihito has never really been touched like that before. The kid wasn't even aware that he got semi-hard with only a little French kiss.

Asami leaned over the sleeping freelancer and brushed some of his hair away from his closed eyes. He saw his long eyelashes quiver at the motion.

The crime lord was amazed at how the teen reacted to his touch. The king of the underworld was also taken aback of how the teen didn't act selfish in a selfish world. The only thing he seemed interested in was being free.

Akihito had an unquenchable fire that burned within his heart and soul that fueled his emotions and his life choices. Where this fire started, is a question only a higher being can answer.

Asami leaned over him and brushed another kiss across Akihito's lips. "Sleep well, Akihito."


	13. Chapter 13

Akihito's mind woke up before his body did. He could feel the outside world, he was just so tired that he didn't have the strength to open his eyelids. He was content with feeling the fresh air enter his nose and the soft hum of the air conditioner in the background.

Akihito's mind was slowly drifting back to the sweet abyss of nothingness when he felt a sharp pinch in the vein of his arm, quickly replaced by pressure. He then felt the slim tube on his face removed. No more continuous air in through the nose. He opened up is mouth to compensate for the lose of air that was running unstopped in to his nose.

As soon as he opened his mouth, a smooth, cold piece of glass was put to his lips. He was confused at the feeling of it, until the glass was tipped in to his mouth and cool water filled his mouth. He swallowed unconsciously, enjoying the taste that was quenching his thirst.

After the cool liquid ran its course down his throat, he felt another feeling. A rather painful feeling. His shoulder was aching, his ankle hurt, and his head was throbbing. He furrowed his eyebrows at the pain that was increasing in severity. He moaned his discomfort to the outside world, hoping that whoever was around him would hear him, and leave him alone. A few seconds later, his call to the outside was answered, and a small pill was placed on his tongue. Some water followed soon after that washed the pill down his esophagus.

Akihito started to cough after the foreign object easily slid down into his stomach. After a few groans, the sleepy freelancer groggily opened his eyes. The first thing he saw made him snicker deep inside. He didn't see a man in a three piece Armani suit with slicked back hair and a hand in his pocket reaching for a gun. What he saw was a man that had semi-messy hair that fell in tendrils across his forehead, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and loose fitting black shorts, and no gun in sight. A far cry from the guy that was holding him down in the bed smooching the pink out of his lips. He started coughing again which got the attention of the man that was pouring another glass of water from a pitcher on his nightstand.

Asami turned back to the blonde in his bed that seemed to be hacking up a lung. He finished pouring the glass of water, sat next to the boy that hadn't stopped coughing, and put the glass to his lips again. He smiled as the boy grabbed at the glass and at his hand that was holding the glass.

After a few gulps of the water, he pushed the glass away and noticed that the IV line was removed, replaced with a band aid, and the oxygen line was also taken away. The bandages on his shoulder were changed and his ankle had a new brace on it, one that would allow him to walk. He glared at the man across from him "You drugged me."

Asami's smirked at what the kid was insinuating. He set the glass on the nightstand and looked back at the boy, meeting those blue eyes that had a blue fire burning in them. "You got me, it's Advil." Akihito shot him an annoyed look.  "You know, you're cute when you get mad." He said this with a slick voice that caused the blonde to turn red with anger, or was it embarrassment?

"Wha...wha...what the Hell? I'm not fucking cute!" His lip protruded in a pout as the top of his nose crinkled in a threatening way.

Asami chuckled to himself. This little blonde had so much spunk in him. Untapped energy that was unbeknownst to anyone, until now. With a bigger smirk on his face, the crime lord stood up and headed towards the bathroom door, leaving the fuming teen behind.

Akihito crossed his arms in satisfaction. "Hmm, I guess I told him." He mumbled under his breath. Not even a minute later, the black haired man reappeared in the bathroom door, this time holding a bowl in one hand, and a sponge in the other. "What, what are you do- doing?" Akihito stammered.

Asami rose one of his eyebrows menacingly and dropped the sponge in the sweet smelling water. The soft splash caused Akihito to jump. "You've been sitting in that bed for quite some time." He strode towards the fidgeting boy. He set the bowl on the nightstand and stood over the shivering blonde, who had worry written across his face.

"You're going to give me a sponge bath?" Akihito put his good arm up defensively. Asami swiftly grabbed the arm and pulled it back towards the headboard. He gently wrapped a piece of silk, that he withdrew from his pocket, around the wrist and around the post of the bed. He got a confused look from Akihito, who was looking up at his now tied good arm.

Asami backed off from the boy and grabbed the sponge that was floating in water that had rose petals and lavender in it. "Does your arm hurt?"

Akihito gave a disgruntled noise, trying to free his now bound hand. He stopped struggling when he heard the waterfall of water coming from a sponge that was being rung out. That's all Asami needed to know.

Akihito looked at Asami as he was about to put the sponge on his bare chest. "Please don't. This is humiliating."

The yakuza gave Akihito a sadistic smile while his golden eyes took on a more brilliant hue. "We can do this the easy way, or the embarrassing way." This caused the blonde to fall silent. "Here's the deal, you answer my questions and I make this little activity less... invasive." He brought that sponge closer to the kid's chest that was flexing and quivering.

Akihito outright laughed. "Is this your form of torture? Ha! I thought you were some big time bloodthirsty crime lord, but you're just really soft, you old yakuza."

Asami smiled wide. "Good, I was hoping you would not go the easy way." With that, Asami slammed the sponge down on Akihito's chest in a way that it wouldn't cause any pain to the boy. Just to startle him a little bit. Startle him it did.

Rose water droplets sprayed the bed.

Akihito bared his teeth in a snarl and whipped his good leg around to turn his whole body away from Asami so that now he had his back to him.

Asami found himself looking up and down the protruding spine in the boy's back, tsking at how slender the boy was. But then, the saving grace was the boy's firm, plump ass that was visibly clenched. "It's not a good idea to turn away from me." The golden eyed man trailed the sponge down Akihito's spine then started to nudge his boxers down his ass with the sponge. Little water droplets ran freely from the sponge across his back.

Akihito rolled back around and fiercely tried to kick at Asami who deftly caught his ankle and brought it down to the bed. "Hey, I'm just trying to make you not smell as rank as you've been smelling."

"Shut up." Akihito said with some understandable annoyance in his words. He was straining his neck to see where that sponge was going to next. After a few minutes of staring at the sponge, his neck became fatigued and he laid his head back on the soft, feather pillow. All too soon he broke eye contact, he felt that sponge meander up and down his chest and to his stomach. With his good hand tied and most of his body rendered useless, he tried to appease to Asami's mercy. "What can I do to make you stop giving me a fucking sponge bath?" He said through gritted teeth.

Asami dipped the sponge in the bowl of water, then brought it back to Akihito's chest. He ran the sponge across the boy's chest leaving a trail of goose bumps in its path. "Simple. You just have to answer some of my questions." Asami's strong hand squeezed the sponge and let some of the water run down the teen's slim stomach and into his navel.

Akihito gave a shudder as he felt the warm water run down his body. He was already having trouble paying attention to that deep voice that seemed to be doing something to his... He shook his head trying to clear it. "Okay... Answer questions like, what my favorite color is? It's yellow by the way."

"Well, that's nice to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of, why were you hiding up in the rafters of the opera house while I was meeting with my subordinates?"

Akihito sucked in some air and held his breath at the imposing man's straightforward question. His breath hitched when the sponge kept going back and forth over his left nipple, stirring something inside of him he didn't understand.

"I'm not hearing an answer from you." Asami said while lazily rubbing the sponge across the photographer's sensitive nipples. He knew what it was doing to the boy. He just didn't know if the boy knew what it was doing. He sped up his rubbing with the sponge to a vigorous motion then started interchanging which nipple he worked on.

The teen started to take on a reddish hue and let out his breath in one big burst. "Stop it! You're going to rub me raw!" He strained against the silk cords that held his hand.

Asami clucked his tongue at the adolescent's behavior. "All you have to do is answer my question." He sped up his ministrations then trailed the sponge closer to the boy's shorts.

"Stop! Okay! I'll tell you!" Akihito said in a high pitched bellow.

"I'll stop when you tell me." Asami put his other hand on the lip of Akihito's shorts. Silently threatening to pull down his boxers.

Akihito hissed. "I was taking pictures!" He let out an exasperated breath after Asami took the sponge and his own hand away from his body.

"I already know that from the flashes. Where are those pictures now?" Asami asked.

"I told you before, they didn't come out. I got rid of them." The distressed teen said.

After the freelancer answered the question, Asami brought a hand down and slapped the sensitive skin enveloping his stomach. Leaving a red hand mark that lasted for a few seconds.

"OW! What the hell was that for?!" Akihito arched his back into the bed.

Asami brought out the sponge and rubbed the sore area. "For spying on me." He glanced down at the boy's shorts that had a noticeable bulge in it. He smiled to himself. 'He likes a little pain. I have to keep this one.' He thought.

Akihito gave a confused look. "Look Asami, I didn't even know who you were. Also, did you steal my stuff?" It was his turn to ask a question.

"I didn't steal it. You left it." Asami brought the sponge to his neck making him turn away exposing more of his neck. "Don't ever accuse me of thievery. Your stuff is over there on the nightstand." The boy fell silent. Obviously perplexed at how he missed not noticing that his phone and camera where sitting right there, beside the bowl of water. He caught the boy's eye's with his own. "I'll give your possessions back, if you answer my questions."

Akihito's eyes blew wide open at the thought of getting his stuff back. His most financially valuable possession, the camera, and his most emotional valuable possession, his picture and the phone. "Okay, I'll answer your questions for my stuff." He said in a hopeful tone. A sorrowful look encompassed his face at the thought that he lost his phone, lost his last connection with his mother, and the only evidence that he ever had a family.

The yakuza looked at the new emotion that was enveloping the teen's face. He didn't like this look. Right then and there, he made a silent promise that he will never again use the camera, the phone, or the picture against this boy. Asami realized that he was essentially holding Akihito's life against him. He softened his eyes and asked an easier question. "How old are you?"

Akihito lowered his eyes in defeat. "Nineteen."

"What's a teen doing running around at night, getting hurt, and taking pictures of secret dealings?"

Akihito shrugged as best he could with his hand still tied to the post. "It's what I do for money."

Asami stiffened. "Who do you work for?"

"I work for myself. I don't work for anybody. I just sell the pictures to Yama-" Akihito shut his mouth. He caught himself almost giving away names. He couldn't believe that he started to feel safe, talking with a man he barely knew. It was something about his voice, his demeanor, his dominance that made him want to spill out his heart.

Asami narrowed his eyes on Akihito as he almost said a name that sounded a bit familiar. "Who do you sell the pictures to?" There was a warning tone in his voice. Asami was all to familiar with spies, snitches, and informants, and knew what could happen to them if they fell in with the wrong people. He looked back at Akihito who wasn't saying another word. Instead of forcing Akihito, he tried reasoning with him. "You are working in a dangerous world, Akihito. If the wrong person finds out that you've been selling information on them, you'll disappear forever. The line of work I believe you're dealing with, is unforgiving, dark, and cruel." He grabbed Akihito's chin to bring his blue eyes over to his own golden ones.

Akihito had a pout on his face. He didn't like how Asami was talking to him. Like a parent that was scolding a child about running with scissors. He narrowed his eyes. "I'm just selling them to a detective friend at a police station to help him crack down on the crime. I'm anonymous to anyone who sees my pictures." He tried to console the crime lord. Which, he didn't know why he was doing that. Asami didn't mean anything to him, and he didn't think that he meant anything to Asami.

The muscular man held the small chin in his hand as he stared into those deep, baby blue eyes. "You stay too long in this business, you won't be unseen for long." He tilted the chin so that Akihito had to reposition his eyes to keep eye contact. Asami started to talk to those blue eyes. "What have these eyes seen? What secrets do they hold? Where have they been? What have they been through?" He saw a confused shadow overtake the eyes. He turned his gaze back to Akihito as a whole. "Questions for another time." Asami leaned in.

"Why do you keep getting in my personal space?" Akihito said, not holding back his irritation.

Asami chuckled low in his throat, causing the air around him to vibrant. "You've been so good with answering my questions, I've decided to give you back your things."

Akihito was about to open his mouth to say, thank you, but then he felt the hand with the sponge slip lower towards his nether regions. "However, I still need to finish your sponge bath." He said while circling his belly button.

"No, stop it!" Akihito tried to move away from the sponge that was doing the opposite effect of making him feel clean.

"You're enjoying this more than you think." He said referring to his semi-hard on.

The injured freelancer got the hint that Asami gave and sat up just a tad to see his shorts slightly tenting. "Oh my God! This is so embarrassing."

"What's so embarrassing?" Asami asked while running the sponge up and down each of the blonde's legs.

Akihito just looked at the ceiling of the room trying to put two thoughts together. Cold showers, chores, getting hit in the crouch by a ball, the crouch... He closed his eyes at the last thought and tried to force his growing erection to go away. He didn't understand why this was happening, with Asami of all people! He knew he was curious and a bit sexual, but this was ridiculous!

Asami noticed Akihito's growing anxiety over this situation. "Would you like me to stop or continue?

The teen felt uncomfortable at how Asami was touching him. It stirred something inside him that he'd only felt a few times before. Only this time, it was amplified. Not wanting to embarrass himself, he covered up his arousal with frustration. "I only want my things back and to leave." He huffed.

With this answer, Asami did one last swipe of the sponge up Akihito's chest and then dropped it in the bowl. The silk cord was untied from his hand and the phone and camera were put right next to him. "Here are your things." Asami took the bowl and left the room with it leaving Akihito at wondering what just happened.

He looked down at his member that was fully tenting his shorts and slowly brought his hand to it. "What is happening to me?"


End file.
